Author's note: Trigger warning for werewolf specific self harm

Stiles kept up a steady stream of water, which Derek kept chugging down. He was forcing Isaac to drink too. With each glass, Derek seemed to be coming back to himself, but Isaac was just getting more distressed. Isaac was cycling through staring into space and bursting into tears and all Scott wanted to do was scoop him up and make everything better.

They hadn't spent much time alone since everything with Jackson, but during their time together as a group, Scott had come to see Isaac was a pretty good guy. He'd gained a lot of respect for him when he stayed to help in the kanima fight and with his intense focus on finding his packmates. There was still a little roughness around his edges, but given his history that was to be expected. This was a side of him that Scott had never seen.

Derek was unfailingly patient with him though, probably due to knowing why he was acting this way. He would give Isaac exactly as much contact as he would allow during each of his moods, not showing anger when Isaac would lash out and push him away. Isaac still hadn't spoken a word yet, but Scott knew it wouldn't be anything good when he finally did.

"Do you want to try the protein drinks now?" Stiles asked, bringing them out on a tray with more water. Derek looked unsure, so Scott took sips of each, showing him again that they were safe. Derek tentatively reached out and grabbed one, taking a tiny sip before grimacing and setting it back down. "Oh my God! Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

"Gross," Derek mumbled, and Stiles barked out a laugh. That was the most normal Derek thing they'd heard since they came back.

"Well, excuse me. I've never made a protein shake before and I might've gone a little heavy on the powder," Stiles defended with a smile. "Scott didn't seem to mind the taste."

"Actually, it was kind of bad," Scott admitted. He'd suppressed his reaction, not wanting Derek to think there was something wrong with the drink.

"Not as bad as your cooking," Stiles shot back, easily falling back into the banter now that things were starting to look up. They didn't stay that way though.

Isaac was in one of his catatonic phases at the moment, so they weren't really paying attention to him. Derek always kept at least one hand on him at all times, and right now it was on his ankle. Scott was letting Stiles take the lead on trying to ease Derek back to normal with his rambling, knowing he was much better at stuff like that. He was actually starting to relax a little when a new scent caught his nose.

"Blood?" Scott mumbled, looking in the direction it was coming from. Isaac was staring down at his hands, which were dripping with blood. Scott just reacted, not thinking about giving anyone space. He leapt forward, tackling Isaac while grabbing at his wrists. Derek roared in anger and confusion before his eyes caught up with what was happening.

"No! No no no!" Isaac shrieked, wriggling around like a dying fish. He almost dislodged Scott with pure, fear induced strength, but Derek came up to help pin him down.

"Isaac, stop!" Scott pleaded, watching in distress as Isaac's face crumpled in anguish. Isaac moaned, trying to twist his arms out of their grasp. Scott looked at the source of the blood, finding the skin of Isaac's fingers torn down to the bone in some places.

"Oh God!" Stiles gasped, turning to gag.

"What are you doing to yourself?" Scott whispered.

"Get rid of them. I have to get rid of them," Isaac stammered, scrabbling his feet against the floor to find purchase.

"Get rid of what, Isaac?" Scott asked.

"I'm a monster!" Isaac choked out, shaking his head from side to side. Scott looked to Derek for explanation, but all he saw were hot, angry tears sliding down his face.

"Stiles, I need your help," Scott called over. He couldn't focus on comforting while he was trying so hard to keep Isaac from hurting himself. Stiles nodded, visibly building himself back up so he could be strong for everyone again. He crawled over, situating himself next to Isaac's head.

"I didn't mean to, you have to believe me!" Isaac cried, panting to the point of almost hyperventilation. "I didn't, I didn't."

"I believe you," Stiles shushed, running his fingers through Isaac's hair.

"I'm so sorry," Isaac wept, trembling in shock and sorrow.

"I know you are."

"Please, forgive me," Isaac moaned, pleading for absolution with his eyes.

"I do, I forgive you," Stiles murmured, leaning down to press his forehead to Isaac's. He was outright bawling now, crying as hard as Scott could ever remember seeing in his life. These were the tears of someone who was experiencing the grief of death.

"Boyd and Erica?" Scott asked, turning to Derek for explanation. Maybe if they knew the details, they'd be able to help more.

"No," Derek whispered, carefully setting Isaac's hand back down as he passed out from trauma induced exhaustion. "That would've been easier."