It goes similarly like that for the next two weeks. Stiles waits for Isaac in the lockers after practice on Fridays, and they drive together. When their sessions are over, Stiles drives Isaac back to the house his aunt bought, and they spend a couple of minutes parked outside of the house, Isaac trying to give Stiles five dollars for gas money before he gives up and goes inside.
It's the third week that he gets news he didn't want to hear, and for some reason, on that Wednesday, he drags himself to school anyways, because he's not sure what else to do with himself. His Aunt has to go to work, and though she offered to stay back with him, Isaac just can't ask her to do that, she's done so much for him already.
He doesn't make it past first period, though, before he goes to the bathroom and sits in a stall atop the toilet, knees pulled up to his chest, door locked, trying his hardest not to cry, but it's unsuccessful.
It's about 20 minutes before he hears a voice speaking, and he wonders how he didn't hear anyone coming in.
"Hello?"
Crap. He knows that voice, it's Stiles.
"Whoever's in there...are you okay?"
Isaac doesn't know what to do, so he stays silent, hugging his knees closer to his chest. He doesn't want Stiles to think he's that broken, that pathetic, to the point where he's crying in the bathroom at school. It's weak, and he knows it, and to Isaac, it's something to hide - tears always are.
"Do you need me to go get someone?" Stiles says softly, and the voice is louder now, closer. Isaac can see his shoes, he's right outside the stall. "Look, I heard you, and the door's locked. Don't pretend you're not in there...you're worrying me. Come on, unlock the door or I'm getting the principal."
That threat awakens something in Isaac. Why would Stiles do that? That doesn't seem kind, it doesn't seem fair. That seems like an invasion of privacy, and if Stiles goes to the principal, and he has to come and break down the door to see some sad kid crying, it's going to open up a whole new world of hell for Isaac.
"No, please don't," he says softly.
For a second it's silent, Stiles isn't moving or talking, and Isaac isn't sure what's going on, and then he speaks.
"Isaac?" Stiles asks softly. "Is that you?"
It's Isaac's turn to be silent again, because he doesn't want Stiles to know that it's him, but at the same time, he's not really sure that lying is going to accomplish anything. He nods before realizing that that is just as useless to the boy on the other side of the door as his silence is.
"I know it's you," Stiles says, though his voice is soft, un-accusing. "It's just me out here, I promise. Open the door, Isaac."
Isaac takes a deep breath, and slowly stands up, sliding the latch and opening the door, finding himself face to face with Stiles. His eyes are red and puffy from the soft crying, and even though he's taller than Stiles, it's clear that the other boy notices right away.
"Isaac, what's wrong?" Stiles asks.
Isaac just looks at him, shaking his head, because they're in a high school bathroom. It's not safe here, he can't talk here. He doesn't really think he can talk about this at all, but definitely not here.
What he doesn't expect is for Stiles to respond to that without him having to say it.
"Yeah, okay, I'm getting you out of here, come on." He moves towards the door, gesturing for Isaac to follow, but Isaac doesn't move, he stays silent, rooted to the spot.
"Come on," Stiles says softly. "I know you don't trust me yet, but look at you, Isaac. Something's wrong, this place isn't good for you right now. Put a little faith in me? I promise if you can't do that after a few minutes, I'll take you anywhere you want to go."
And that's how Isaac winds up following Stiles out of some back door of the school where the alarm has been broken for years, and buckling himself into the passenger's seat of Stiles' jeep as it peels out of the parking lot just fast enough for them to not get caught.
At first, Isaac is nervous. He doesn't know where Stiles is going, but he doesn't say anything, he just lets the other boy drive, trusting just enough that Stiles won't take him somewhere dangerous, because why would he?
Stiles drives for about 35 minutes before pulling up onto a rest area. It's the farthest up the hills that they can go with a car, and Isaac's never been up here.
"Do you want to get out and walk up?" Stiles asks. "Or do you want to stay in the car, or drive back, or...what do you want?"
"We can walk," Isaac says softly. It's the middle of the day, and it's a little overcast, so they aren't likely to run into many hikers.
"Okay." Stiles nods and gets out first, starting up the trail with Isaac close by him.
The walk is just as silent as the ride was, but this time when Stiles stops, it's at a bluff over looking the city. He sits down, and looks over everything.
"This is where I come," Stiles says softly. "When I don't want to be alone. Even if I'm by myself, there's something about being able to see the whole city that makes me feel...I don't know." He shrugs. "Not alone."
Isaac sits down next to him, knees pulled to his chest, looking out over the same sight, and he can sort of sees what Stiles means. They're in nature, but they can see the city, and there is something comforting about that.
There's more silence, and a part of Isaac keeps waiting for Stiles to ask, hoping that he will, because if he does, that will give Isaac a reason not to tell. He's afraid, and if Stiles asks, he can allow himself to feel backed into a corner and ask to be taken home, but Stiles doesn't ask, doesn't push, and Isaac doesn't feel uncomfortable the way some cruel part of him wants to. It's easier for him to feel uncomfortable around people. There's less risk.
"He's pleading not guilty," Isaac says finally, the lump rising again in his throat as he does so.
Stiles stays silent, maybe waiting for Isaac to say something more, maybe just processing, for almost a full minute before responding.
"Your father?" He asks softly.
Isaac just nods. He knows there are rumors, and Stiles is smart. He's probably known since day one that the therapy wasn't only about Isaac's mom, but Isaac really appreciates that Stiles never brought it up. Being prompted into that wouldn't feel good, and he knows that.
"The rumors...they're true, aren't they." It's not a question, he knows, at least to some extent. Isaac can tell.
"Some," Isaac says softly, and then, after a few more seconds of silence, "Most."
"He'll be convicted," Stiles says softly. "CPS doesn't go to that extreme on a hunch. They have proof?"
Isaac nods again.
"And you're loving proof," Stiles looks right at Isaac. "He'll be convicted."
"I...I know that," Isaac admits softly. "And he does, too. He's not doing this to get away with what he did. He's...he's..." Isaac looks down, choking back tears, but Stiles finished for him.
"Oh my god, he's doing this to mess with you?" Stiles looks shocked, maybe even a little angry, which would be frightening to Isaac if he thought for even a second that that anger was aimed at him, but he knows it's not.
"He thinks I'm weak," Isaac says softly. "I am weak, but...he wants a trial to show to everyone that he was right, that I'm just...pathetic and worthless. Even from jail he still has control. I don't know what to do, I just..." He sniffles, trying so hard not to cry, not again.
"It's okay, Isaac," Stiles says gently. "Let it out. You're safe here."
And that's really all it takes. He's so fragile, and so scared, and Stiles is doing everything to make him feel safe, and as much as he hates that he can't prevent it, he cries. It's not loud, wailing sobs, just a quiet sniffle and a steady stream of tears, but to him, it still feels weak, because after so long of being told he's pitiful, even the comforting hand rubbing his back, and the soft voice telling him that it's okay to cry don't make it feel like anything other than weakness.
They sit there for almost two hours. Stiles says a few things, but mostly, it's just silence, but for some reason, it's comfortable. Isaac is comfortable around Stiles, he understands that there's no one here who is going to hurt him, and recently, he's found more and more places where he can feel that safety, including, for the first time in a long time, the place that he calls home.
"I'm going to have to testify," Isaac whispers, his voice weak - his entire person weak. "He's going to make me re-live all of it, every...everything he ever did to me, if I want him to be out of my life."
Isaac doesn't look at Stiles, but it's clear that Stiles doesn't know what to say, because at the root, Stiles knows that Isaac was abused, but he doesn't know the details, he doesn't know what happened to the other teenager, and he doesn't know how to make it better, how to make this any better. It's a horrible situation, and all he can do is provide comfort, he can't fix it.
"Do...do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asks slowly. "Practice?"
Isaac thinks for a moment, looking out at the view, still not looking at the man next to him, still not making eye contact, before shaking his head. He's just not ready, and is he expected to be?
"Okay." Stiles nods, accepting that easily, because it was sort of a long shot to begin with, and it's still new, all of this? It still seems new. "Well if you ever change your mind, or you get closer to the time and you need someone to hear you out, someone who, you know, isn't going to spread things around school, or give you a rough time, you know where to find me."
Isaac nods, knowing that he needs to say thank you, but he feels choked up again, scared, and he's afraid that if he moves to talk, there won't be words, just tears, and he's cried enough, he feels weak enough already. He doesn't need to add to it, nor does he want to.
Finally, after a bit longer, Isaac turns to Stiles, the lump in his throat pushed away for the time being.
"Are we friends?" he asks softly, looking at the other man.
Stiles smiles at him, and nods. "Yeah, of course we are."
Isaac just lets a smile ghost across his lips before he turns back to the view, and that's all Stiles needs right now, because he's helping. Isaac smiled, even if it is just a little, and that's making a difference.
A/N Urrrghhh I am so sorry that it took me so long to update! I am REALLY, really sorry! I have had a crazy couple weeks. Unfortunately, my summer schedule is a little crazy, so updates will not be as regular, but the story is NOT dead, I promise! Thanks so much for sticking with it, I hope you're still enjoying it, and yeah! I love you guys!