"Can't you just use your werewolf mojo to bust down the door?" Stiles groaned impatiently, poking a finger into Isaac's back. Isaac glared down at the shorter boy, again cursing his decision to answer his phone. He'd just been sitting alone, minding his own business while trying to finish up his homework before all the light died out, when he got a text from Scott, begging him to help Stiles in whatever hairbrained scheme he had concocted this time. Scott was out of town with his mom, something about a great aunt breaking a hip and some distant cousins wanting the nurse's opinion on what they should do. Ms. McCall was hesitant to leave Scott in town alone, even at his quiet proclamations that he would be just fine, and swept him away to drive the 200 miles to their extended family. So now, out of loyalty to Scott, Isaac was breaking into an abandoned building with Stiles, who was convinced there was something inside that would help them with their Alpha pack situation.

If Isaac was being honest with himself, he was still pretty rattled after his encounter with the pack. Not that all of his memories were intact about what happened, even after the sessions with Peter and the ice bath, but whereas he didn't know the specifics, he did remember how he felt. All consuming terror was an accurate description. Isaac had lived with fear all his life, so he was used to the feeling. Some of it had gone away with the bite, but it had been replaced with a new kind of unease. Instead of worrying about his father and all that came with him, he now had to deal with hunters and other, stronger werewolves, and who knows what else.

And it should've been easier, dealing with whatever came his way, now that he had a pack. Derek had made it sound so powerful and secure, the bond between werewolves. Isaac had thrown himself headfirst into it, doing whatever Derek asked of him, eager to please. Even when it was things he really didn't want to do. He did it all anyways, desperate to solidify his place with his Alpha. Had he wanted to kill Lydia when they thought she was the Kanima? Not at all. But he would've done it if Derek told him to, and wasn't that thought disquieting? For him to have such a loyalty to someone so quickly that he would go against everything he knew was right. And even with all that effort he put in, look at him now.

It had only been a week since Derek unceremoniously kicked him out of his loft, but the mostly sleepless nights made it seem even longer. He had nowhere to go, so ended up wandering back to the abandoned train depot they had stayed in while Derek was building his pack. Isaac sat awake most nights in the busted up train where they had had their first and only group turn under the full moon, going over every moment he could think of in his head, wondering where he'd gone wrong.

He knew he'd been spending a little more time with Scott, agreeing with his plans a bit more than he had Derek's. He didn't mean to look like he was switching allegiances, but sometimes the younger wolf made better choices. And Derek was always teaming up with Scott, when the need arose. Maybe it wasn't Isaac's place to do so on his own, but he would've stopped if Derek told him to. Isaac wasn't even given a chance to correct his behavior, if that was the reason.

Or maybe his father had been right all along. There was hardly a day that went by in that house where his father didn't remind him how useless he was. How he was a mistake, a burden, a waste of a son. Deep down, Isaac knew his father was wrong. It was just his way of coping with the loss of his wife and son. But now that he'd been dumped on his ass by another authority figure, punctuated by a glass again no less, doubts were starting to creep back in. Why was it so easy for him to be discarded if he truly had any worth? He hadn't been a good son and he wasn't really a good wolf. And given the way Stiles was looking at him, he wasn't a good friend either.

Not that he would consider Stiles his friend. And he was sure the feeling was mutual. Isaac hadn't really had friends since his mom died, besides his brother. He went from being the cute little boy with golden curls, to the sullen boy who tried to go through life without being noticed. And everyone around him was happy enough to help him along in his goal. No one batted an eye at the little boy with the bruised face, eating lunch alone every day. By the time he made it to middle school, he barely spoke at all.

When he got to high school and his home life was even worse now that his brother was gone and unable to at least shift some of his father's attention away from him, Isaac almost completely shut down. He'd only joined the lacrosse team at his father's suggestion, not outright saying it would help explain away his constant bruising, but it hadn't needed to be spoken. Isaac had jumped at the chance to be out of the house even longer than normal, added to his job at the cemetery. He didn't particularly enjoy the sport, but it helped get some of his frustrations out, since he couldn't with his father.

It still wasn't enough, since he spent more nights in the freezer than out, but at least there were a few more people to notice if he went missing, on those rare occasions his dad forgot to let him out for days on end. He tried to believe the few times it happened were a mistake, instead of his father doing it on purpose to be extra cruel. Although there was the time Isaac had been stuck in there for three full days, the only air coming through a tiny plug in the bottom that Isaac had found one day and painstakingly picked a hole into. He hadn't been able to regain control of himself during one of his panics and soiled himself, stuck in his waste for a full day before his father let him out again. His father had screamed at him about the mess he made, what a disgrace he was, all the normal stuff, and made him clean it up right then. As his dad left him to go back upstairs, Isaac caught the hint of a smirk, uncharacteristic glee in the eyes of the man. So Isaac swore he'd never let this happen again, always picking at his dinner in case one of these marathon freezer sessions were in his future. He let breakfast be his largest meal of the day, giving himself the most time to digest and get rid of his food, just in case.

"Earth to Isaac," Stiles grumbled, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Isaac jolted a bit, clenching his fists to keep his claws from bursting through. He didn't need to wolf out right now.

"Don't do that," Isaac growled, only letting a tiny pinch of wolf leak into his voice. Stiles was probably his least favorite member of this ragtag group and his patience was almost nonexistent after being guilted into being his protector/escort. They had gotten off on the wrong foot from the very beginning and never found balance since. From Isaac being slightly homicidal and pretty much a dick, to Stiles cutting down everything he said and dismissing him as unworthy of his time. Yeah, they had worked together when they needed to, but they did so begrudgingly. If there had been any other options, they would've jumped at them.

The only one in the group Isaac could really consider anything close to a friend was Scott. Isaac had a deep respect for the teen since he'd gotten to know him and Scott seemed to at least tolerate his presence at this point. He wasn't sure if that equalled friendship, but he'd take what he could get. Boyd and Erica were kind of his friends, in that forced together, pseudo sibling sort of way. Boyd was a quiet giant and even more closed off than Isaac, if that was possible. Erica had been his sort of partner in crime for a while at the beginning, until they mellowed out a bit and she naturally gravitated toward Boyd. She had an underlying sweetness about her, most likely brought on by her years as an outcast, and he could picture her really coming into her own with her newfound power. But it was too late for that now.

Allison was complicated, after their little bursts of fighting and working together. He couldn't really hold the stabbing against her, since he'd been planning on killing her best friend earlier. But he knew he didn't trust her. That arrow in his chest meant for Scott was enough to keep him wary of her for the time being. He knew it was forgotten for Scott, but for her to aim an arrow at the chest of someone she had bonded so fully with, to switch allegiances like that, continued to give him pause around her. Werewolves were tougher than most, but if Scott had moved just so, the arrow could've hit him straight in the heart.

So now he was stuck here, in this weird limbo of being in a pack, but not having a pack. Backing up a human who, while annoying, was still risking his life to save his friends. To fight a battle that wasn't really his. Isaac gripped the handle of the door, snapping it off and tossing it to the side with a soft clatter. If the Alpha pack happened to be here, they would've heard them already, so no need to be too quiet.

"What are we here for anyway?" Isaac asked, peering cautiously through the now slightly opened door. Scott hadn't given him many details, probably either worried Isaac would refuse the request or not wanting his mom to have anything to tell the sheriff. And Stiles had been uncharacteristically quiet during the ride over.

"My dad's been getting a lot of calls about this place. Random people coming in and out," Stiles answered, trying to peek around Isaac to see inside too.

"So you just let me put my fingerprints on a place the police are investigating?" Isaac hissed, bumping the other boy with his elbow.

"Not like you haven't been in jail before," Stiles muttered, rubbing at his ribs exaggeratedly. Well, that one stung a bit. Being stuck in a cell on the eve of his first full moon hadn't been the best experience. Topped only by being arrested in the first place. It was a weird reaction you got from people when they thought you murdered your abusive father. A mix of the normal revulsion from the idea of a son doing something so heinous, to a pitying understanding at why you did it. And Isaac was stuck there, battling the emotions brought on by the moon and the warring feelings in his heart, about whether or not to mourn his tormentor. On one hand, he couldn't not feel something for the man who brought him into this world. It hadn't always been bad. But then the bad was terrible and the relief at never being put through that constant agony again was breathtaking.

Isaac blew out a calming breath, pushing his way into the building. It wasn't very run down or dirty, as far as abandoned buildings went. There were some papers scattered about and old furniture, but nothing very interesting. The building was one giant, open room, with what looked like an office sitting against one wall a little ways down and a hallway on the other side. There was another door across from where they came in, probably another exit. He tried to hone into his wolf senses, sniffing for signs of people. He still wasn't particularly good at that skill, but you didn't get better unless you practiced. Isaac smelled the faint aroma of people who had long ago come and gone, but no signs of any werewolves.

"What makes you think this place is connected to the Alphas?" Isaac asked, still sniffing the air for any signs of wolf. At the answering silence, he spun around, staring dumbly at the last spot he'd seen Stiles. The boy was gone. "Stiles!" How had he slipped away, unnoticed? Isaac had been too focused on his nose, he didn't even think that Stiles wasn't right by his side. If anything happened to the other teen, the pack would kill him.

Isaac relied on his nose again, sucking air through his nostrils desperately, trying to follow where Stiles had gone. He had one job to do and less than a minute after they entered the building, he was failing. His own distress odors were seeping out of him, masking the dissipating whisps left from Stiles. He needed to calm down before he made things worse.

"Stiles!" Isaac hissed, spinning around to look for any type of clue. A dirty building would've come in handy now, with the possibility of footprints for him to follow. But there was nothing. A sudden clatter sounded from the small office, his hyper-aware senses making it sound like a bang right next to his face. He raced toward the location, abandoning any ideas of self preservation. If he hesitated, it could be too late.

Isaac slammed through the closed door, not taking the time to try the knob. A startled Stiles shrieked in surprise, dropping the papers he was holding so they glided to the floor. A perfectly fine Stiles.

"What the hell!" Stiles gasped, grasping at his chest in shock. Isaac whirled around, closing his eyes until he could feel them changing from unearthly yellow, back to mellow blue. Stiles was muttering behind him about overzealous wolves scaring him half to death, picking up his fallen papers. When Isaac felt the wolf side of him back under control, he turned again to face the other teen.

"What the hell were you thinking? I thought you-" Isaac cut himself off, dragging a hand across his mouth.

"Oh relax," Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Nothing happened."

"Do you have any idea how dangerous the Alpha pack is?" Isaac whisper-shouted, his hands starting to tremble at his sides. He needed to pull himself together.

"I've gotten myself out of stickier situations. Besides, I doubt you'd care if anything happened to me," Stiles snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Isaac reared back as if he'd been struck. Is that what Stiles really thought of him? Did they all think that?

"I'm here, aren't I?" Isaac ground out, clenching and unclenching his hands as he felt the claws aching to burst free.

"Not like either of us want to be here together. You were literally my last choice," Stiles laughed, shaking his head and going back to flipping through papers. Isaac bit his lip and looked away. You'd think hearing that kind of stuff all your life would make it easier to digest, but it was still a sucker punch to the gut every time. Maybe being an Omega wasn't the terrible thing everyone made it out to be. No one to answer to, no one to worry about. That didn't sound so bad to Isaac right about now.

"Be that as it may, I am the one here with you and I promised Scott I'd have your back. So please, try not to run off again without telling me first," Isaac sighed, running a weary hand down his face. He was so tired. He wanted to crawl back to his temporary home and forget the world existed for a few days.

Stiles didn't agree or disagree, choosing to keep doing what he was doing. Isaac figured that was the best he would get from the other teen at this point, so he just kept his eyes on him the whole time. He still didn't know what they were looking for, so why waste his time?

"Dude, all that staring is creepy. I thought you would've heard me leaving while you were doing your wolf thing. That's kind of the whole deal, right? Heightened senses? I swear, Scott can hear me grinding my teeth in Chemistry from like 20 feet away. He even sent me information on getting a night guard for when I sleep so-"

"Shut up!" Isaac hissed, cutting off Stiles' rambling monologue.

"You don't have to be so rude. I was just saying-" Isaac cut off Stiles again, this time with a hand over his mouth.

"Shhhhh. I think I heard something," Isaac whispered, his mouth next to the other boy's ear. Stiles nodded as best he could in his grip, his eyes going a little wide in fear. Isaac was sure he had heard footsteps coming from outside of the room, but there was only silence now. Only the sounds of his and Stiles' slightly elevated heartbeats filled his ears. Maybe he had just imagined it?

Isaac slowly started to uncurl his body from the protective stance he had taken around the vulnerable human, peeling his hand off his mouth. Stiles worked his jaw a little bit, preparing to throw out some sort of smart remark, when Isaac suddenly tackled him to the ground. A bullet slammed into the wall where they had been standing less than a second earlier. They stared at each other in open mouthed shock for a few moments before time caught up with them again. The Alpha pack wouldn't be carrying guns. They didn't need them.

"Hunters," Isaac mumbled, looking back toward the door he'd come through. He caught the slightest hint of movement, before the form scurried out of view. Well, that way out was gone. Their best option was to exit the office through the second door and make a break for the other entrance they'd seen. They couldn't afford to fight with only each other as backup.

Isaac lifted Stiles to his feet, keeping him on the side closest to the wall. He smashed through the door with his shoulder, using himself as a shield as they made a break for the exit. There was only open space along the way, so they had to hope these people weren't good at their jobs. Isaac kept his pace even with the other boy's, not willing to go with his full speed and leave him exposed. The bullets were whizzing by them, only missing due to sheer, dumb luck. They were so close to freedom when their luck ran out.

Stiles tripped over something, maybe even his own feet, and went down hard. Isaac skidded to a stop, his forward momentum carrying him a few yards from his downed companion. It would take no effort at all to keep going, go those last few feet to freedom, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave without Stiles.

"Go!" Stiles called, trying to pull himself to his feet. Did he really think he would listen? That Isaac would abandon him to the mercy of people with guns? Isaac stepped toward Stiles, freezing when the sound of a gun cocking filled his ears. A body dressed in black came out of the darkness, a gleaming silver pistol pointed directly at Stiles' head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a woman's voice said from somewhere to his left.

"You can still get out of here," Stiles pleaded, staring into his eyes. "If they're hunters, they have a code. They don't just kill people." Isaac stared back, knowing his chances of escape and survival were slowly fading away, but he still had no urge at all to leave. There was no way he would leave without Stiles. Isaac slowly raised his hands, signalling his surrender. Stiles gaped at him, panting a little in distress.

"Let him go," Isaac demanded, searching out for the voice that he assumed was of the leader. "You don't need him if you've got me." Isaac tried to sound strong and confident, channeling the tone of his Alpha. If they let Stiles go, he could get help. Even if he didn't get help in time, as long as he was safe, Isaac could count it as a win.

"But two is so much better than one," the voice cooed. Sudden, unimaginable pain shot up Isaac's back, sending him crashing to the ground. He heard Stiles cry out as his body shook with convulsions, the electrical current burning through his veins and leaving him disoriented. Isaac twitched as the charge worked its way out of his body, his brain screaming at him to do something. Get up, fight back, don't let them get you down this easy! But his body wouldn't work properly.

A svelte figure stepped out of the darkness, slinking up to kneel beside him. Isaac growled as she pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead. She grinned as she pulled a rod out from behind her back, electricity immediately crackling around it. Isaac could hear Stiles' begging as she lowered it to his chest, the pain blinding him until he couldn't hold on any longer. The last thing he heard before he passed out was her light giggle, bending down to whisper in his ear.

"Sweet dreams."