"Isaac?"
On Friday, when Isaac goes in for what will be his 3rd appointment with Dr. Jacobsen, he is shocked, as he enters the waiting room, to see Stiles sitting there. He doesn't know Stiles, not really, but they're on the same lacrosse team, and they had Government together last semester. Stiles has always been nice enough to Isaac – or rather, he hasn't been mean to him, sometimes even nodding amiably at him in the hallways, or tossing him a ball during practice. They both warm the bench, though, so the passes don't matter much in reality, and Isaac is sure that anyone would think he was stupid for even remembering the gesture.
Isaac looks instantly for the door, because he doesn't want this to happen, he doesn't want anyone that he knows, or even sort of knows, to be here. This is supposed to be his place, a safe place, and even though it's just the waiting room, and even though Stiles is nice enough, this still feels like the beginning of a hallway full of rumors on Monday morning, and with all that he's been through already, Isaac doesn't think he can handle that.
"I haven't seen you here before," Stiles states, able to tell instantly that Isaac is uncomfortable with his presence. "Are you here to see Dr. Jacobsen? Of course you are, because otherwise you wouldn't be here, because I have the 5:00 with Dr. Keller, and there's only two in this practice." He smiles. "Unless of course, you have your time wrong, because I definitely don't."
"I didn't…" Isaac isn't sure what to respond to, or how. "You're in therapy?" he winds up asking, unable to stop himself. He's flustered by the whole situation, and Stiles' presence has thrown him completely off guard.
"Yeah." Stiles nods. "Once a week, every week since my mom died."
It's no secret that Stiles lost his mom five years ago. Or that Isaac did a couple of years before that, but it never occurred to Isaac that that might be something someone would get therapy for. His father had never given him the option, he would have seen it as weak.
"Oh." Isaac sits down, taking a deep breath.
"Is that why you're here?" Stiles asks. "Because of your mom?"
"Um, yeah." Isaac nods, because that's easier than the truth, and it's not completely a lie. If his mother hadn't died, he's sure that none of the reasons he needs therapy would have ever even come up.
"Okay." Stiles nods. "Well, if you wanna carpool ever, let me know."
And that's it. Stiles goes back to reading some magazine. He doesn't pry into Isaac's life, doesn't ask him why he's living with his aunt all of a sudden, even though Isaac knows the whole school is talking about it. He doesn't question Isaac's being here, and he doesn't try to get him to open up. He just extends a small branch of friendship, and lets the room fall silent.
Ironically, when Isaac goes into Mr. Jacobsen's office and sits down on the couch, the first thing the doctor asks him about his friends.
"I don't…" Isaac shrugs his shoulders. "I did have, when I was younger, I guess," Isaac admits softly. "But after my mom died, it just…" he trails off, because friends weren't really an option anymore after that. His father wouldn't let him hang out with anyone unless his grades and chores were satisfactory, and no matter how hard Isaac worked, he had never been able to hit that point.
"Well is there anyone?" Dr. Jacobsen asks. "Friends at school? You said you're on the lacrosse team?"
"I mean, Jackson – he's the captain of the lacrosse team, he lives across the street from where I live -" Isaac stops himself, biting his lip. "From where I used to live. He's the one that called CPS on my father," he admits. "But he doesn't talk to me, we're not friends."
Isaac feels like he owes Jackson too much to even know where to start talking to him, and Dr. Jacobsen doesn't ask him to.
"Is there anyone else?" He asks.
"Um, I guess maybe Stiles?" Isaac shrugs. "I mean, we're not friends, but he offered to drive me to therapy, so…there's…that."
"To drive you? That sounds like a friend to me," Dr. Jacobsen quips.
"No, but…I mean, he has a 5:00 appointment on Fridays with your practice partner, so he's coming here anyways."
"Still, he made the offer," Dr. Jacobsen says with a smile. "He wouldn't have done that if he wasn't trying to reach out to you. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, Isaac, but maybe you're not lonely because no one reaches out to you, maybe you're lonely because you've been too afraid to reach back."
"I…" Isaac looks down at his shoes, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess I never thought of it that way," he admits, his voice a low whisper.
"Well maybe you should give it a shot," Dr. Jacobsen says with a smile. "I'm not saying you have to start asking people to hang out, or come over, if that's not comfortable for you yet, but this week, give it a shot with this Stiles kid. Even if it's just accepting his ride for next week. You don't have to leap into anything, but a baby step or two could get you on the path to having a friend."
"Okay." Isaac nods. "I'll try."
And he means that, he really does, because Dr. Jacobsen is right. Isaac doesn't know how to reach out to other people, because he is lonely, and he is scared, but those are both things that he doesn't want to be anymore.
When he's leaving the office, he's vaguely relieved to see that Stiles is still there, crossing the waiting room towards the door.
"Hey, um, Stiles?" Isaac asks.
"Yeah?" Stiles turns back around.
"Do you…do you think maybe I could get a ride here next week?" He asks. "Please?"
"Yeah, totally." Stiles nods. "I'll drive you home after."
"Oh, no, you don't have to do that, I-"
"Isaac, it's Beacon Hills," Stiles says with a friendly smile. "No one lives that far from each other."
"Oh, well…thanks," Isaac mumbles, looking down at the ground.
"Don't mention it," Stiles states. "I'll see you Monday. Have a good weekend."
With that, Stiles is out the door, and Aunt Clara looks up at Isaac from where she's been sitting for the last 5 minutes, waiting for Isaac. She smiles at him, and he nods, appreciating the fact that she didn't interrupt the longest conversation he's had with anyone other than his aunt and his therapist in the last few weeks.
"I asked him," Isaac states, looking up at Dr. Jacobsen on Tuesday. "Stiles, for a ride Friday."
Dr. Jacobsen doesn't say anything, he just sits, waiting for Isaac to finish the story.
"Oh, he said yes." Isaac nods. "We didn't sort out any of the details, though and I don't know..." he trails off, looking down at the carpet. It's standard, but somehow oddly comforting. Everything in the office is oddly comforting, and he wonders if any of that is strategic.
"Hey, it's a good start, Isaac," Dr. Jacobsen says with a smile. "On Thursday, just ask him nicely if he's still available to give you a ride, and if he's not, he'll tell you, and if he is, I'll bet he'll set up the meet."
"Yeah, that's..." Isaac nods. "He didn't tell anyone. Or at least, no one's talking about it."
"Tell anyone what?"
"That I'm here, that I'm talking to you."
"Did you think that he would?"
"Well...yeah." He shrugs. "I mean, there's a lot of mystery surrounding the whole situation, why I'm suddenly living with my aunt while my dad is behind bars, it's...really hard to keep a secret in our town, and for some reason, they want to talk about me. It's...they never saw me before, but now..."
"Now that you're at the center of some mystery, some tragedy, everyone wants to know everything about you?"
"Maybe, yeah, or maybe they think I deserved it, and they just want to get their facts straight before they tell me that to my face."
"Whoa, whoa." Dr. Jacobsen's brow furrows as he looks at Isaac. "Deserved what?"
"What my dad..."
"Is that what you think?" Dr. Jacobsen asks. "That you deserved it?"
Isaac shrugs, and there's a silence there, a silence which answers the question for him, in all honesty.
"It's what he told me, so..." Isaac shrugs again.
"It can be hard to stop believing something that's been pounded into you for years," Dr. Jacobsen says softly. "But that's what we're going to try focusing on for the next couple of weeks, because Isaac, no matter what went down, you didn't deserve for your father to abuse you."
"But what if I had just been better?" Isaac asks. "What if I had been the straight A student, the star lacrosse player?"
"He still would have come down on you for not cleaning your room," Dr. Jacobsen states. "He didn't hit you because you're inferior, Isaac. He hit you because he is."
Isaac falls silent, shrugging his shoulders, not saying anything, not doing anything. He doesn't know how to respond to that, and he's not sure that he wants to, anyways. It's a whole can of worms that he hasn't even considered before, and Dr. Jacobsen allows the silence, allows Isaac to process the small conversation, for the rest of the appointment, and when time is up, Isaac gets up and leaves on his own, without being told that it's time.
"Hi." Aunt Clara stands when he enters the waiting room. "How was the session?"
"He said it wasn't my fault," Isaac says, his voice dry, cracked, tired.
"It wasn't." Aunt Clara puts her arm around Isaac, and squeezes him gently. He's taller than her, but she can still pull him in for a hug, and Isaac lets her, because, well, it's nice to have someone close to him who doesn't lay fault to him all of the time.
A/N Alright - so at least one person reading missed it, and I can see how that would happen, I just briefly mentioned it in the summary, but this is an AU where there are no werewolves! I hope that's okay for you guys! Second, Thanks so much for reading, this chapter is a little longer, so I hope you enjoyed it! Definitely trying to get into Isaac as much as I can, but of course, I feel the need to disclaimer the fact that I have absolutely no frame of reference for what he is going through other than through reading and media myself. I am trying my best, though, and thanks for reading! (And also, as I'm sure that you can guess, the romance of this story will have a slow build...because Isaac needs to be ready emotionally before he can fall in love, and he's totally not there yet.) Love you guys, thanks so much for reading!