When Isaac gets home that night, it's almost 6 PM, and Clara is sitting at the kitchen table, looking at him as though she's been waiting for him to get home.
"Where have you been?" she asks, rising to look at him, and she looks worried. Really worried...and maybe just a bit upset, and it's that slight upset that sends Isaac stumbling backwards away from her.
"I...I was...I...I…" He can't get the words out, because he's been home late before, he's forgotten to call his father before, and come home late to so much anger, and he's having trouble separating that from this right now.
"Isaac, sweetheart," Clara steps forwards slowly, her voice soft, kind.
She's not advancing on him like she's about to strike him, and it's so different from the scenes that played out with his father, that it does start to loosen the knot in Isaac's chest.
"I'm not mad," she says softly. "I understand. You got hard news this morning, you got scared, but when the school called and said you weren't there, and then you weren't answering your phone, and I was...I was afraid you'd done something, that you'd…" she trails off, looking at the ground.
Isaac looks at her, and the fear he feels turns to guilt. She was worried about him. She wasn't mad or upset because she lost control of him, the way his father was when Isaac came home late, she was worried, afraid that he was hurt, because she cares about him. She loves him. Isaac stops backing away, and rushes forwards, pulling his aunt into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder, despite being a good several inches taller than she is.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I...I was at school, and I got upset, and Stiles took me somewhere safe. I should have called."
"You should have," she says softly, rubbing Isaac's back gently. "But I'm just glad you're safe. I know that this is hard for you, and that I can't make it all better, and I wish that I could, I really do, but we'll get through this, okay?" She pulls back, looking at Isaac seriously. "We'll make this work."
Isaac nods, and moves away from his aunt to sit at the kitchen table, the wave of intense emotion starting to subside and give way to slightly less extreme feelings.
"I called Dr. Jacobsen, he's offered you a double appointment on Friday, which means you can still get a ride with Stiles, but I'll come pick you up. Is that alright?"
Isaac nods, looking down at his hands. He knows that it's good, the extra time will help him work through things, but it won't fix what's wrong. This won't feel better until it's all over, and he knows that could be awhile.
"Did you eat with Stiles?" Clara asks, putting a gentle hand on Isaac's shoulder.
He shakes his head, and when she asks if he's hungry, he shakes his head again.
She makes grilled cheese and tomato soup anyways, and it's not until Isaac takes a courtesy bite that he realizes how hungry he really is, and demolishes the meal.
The next day, Clara calls Isaac out of school, and calls in sick to work so that she can be there with him. She turns off his alarm clock and lets him sleep in, because it's so clear that he needs it, and when he does wake up, she makes him a full breakfast.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" She asks him, her tone of voice indicating that if he is ready, she'll talk, but she's not pushing, and Isaac is so grateful.
"Not...not yet," he says softly, and that's that. Just like Stiles, Clara is giving him the time and space he needs to try and process what his father is doing to him.
Just because she isn't at work doesn't mean that Clara doesn't have any work to do, so they sit at the kitchen table, Isaac doing the homework he didn't do yesterday, and Clara working.
Around 4, the doorbell rings, and Isaac starts, dropping his pen to the floor.
"I'll get it." Clara smiles kindly at Isaac, though it's clearly laced with some pity, as she goes to see who's at the door.
When she comes back into the kitchen, Jackson Whittemore is walking behind her. Jackson, who called Child Protective Services, Jackson, who hasn't so much as looked at Isaac since, and Isaac isn't sure what to make of it.
"I brought you your work," Jackson states, holding up a folder of papers.
"I'll leave you two," Clara says, taking her exit to the next room. Isaac knows she's close, knows that she wouldn't go far and leave him in a room with someone he doesn't really know, because Isaac knows that he can trust her.
"I need to talk to you," Jackson says, sitting down at the table across from Isaac. "I got a call from some half assed lawyer, asking if I would testify against your father."
"You don't have to," Isaac says quickly, shaking his head, curls bouncing slightly, because that's why Jackson is here, right? To tell Isaac that he won't do it?
"What?" Jackson frowns, looking at Isaac as though he's confused. "Isaac, he beat the shit out of you. I'm testifying to that. I came here to let you know that I'm in, man...and that I'm not gonna tell anyone anything, and..." He looks at Isaac. "My dad wants to represent you. Pro bono."
"Pro bono?" Isaac frowns. He knows Jackson's dad is a lawyer, but he's the fancy, expensive kind.
"It means for free," Jackson explains. "What your dad did was fucked up, and my dad and I, we're all in. We want to help."
"Thank you," Isaac says softly, looking down. He feels pathetic for needing so much help, but he can't do this alone, and now it's not just him and his aunt.
"Look, you and I may not be friends, but you deserve better." Jackson pulls a business card from his pocket and sets it on the table stop the folder of schoolwork. "That's my dad's direct line," he says, taking Isaac's pen and circling a number at the bottom. "He's expecting your call." Jackson heads for the door. "I'll see you around."
Jackson leaves, and Isaac just sits there, staring at the card. Jackson's right, they aren't friends, but Jackson is still helping, and Isaac is having trouble getting his head around that.
Clara walks back into the room and sits down at the table where Jackson was, waiting for Isaac to say something rather than ask.
"Jackson's dad wants to represent us," he says quietly, handing over the card. "For free."
"I'll call him tomorrow." Clara smiles. "You see?" She says softly, putting her hand over Isaac's, squeezing it gently. "You're not alone, Isaac."
"I know." Isaac nods.
It's still scary, but she's right. He's not alone. In fact, he's pretty sure he's never been less alone.
He sleeps better that night, though not a ton. He goes to school the next day, but it's kind of a blur until after practice when he catches up with Stiles to go to therapy.
"Hey." Stiles smiles at him as they head for the car. "You doing any better?"
"I got a lawyer," Isaac shrugs.
"That's good!" Stiles is all smiles, and Isaac doesn't really understand how Stiles can muster so much enthusiasm for things that Isaac feels drained just thinking about, but he appreciates it.
"Yeah." Isaac nods. "Oh, and...my aunt is gonna pick me up today," he says softly. "I have two hours instead of one."
"I don't mind waiting," Stiles admits as he gets behind the wheel of the car.
"Yeah, but you don't have to."
"Call your aunt," Stiles says with a smile as he starts driving. "Tell her I'll still bring you home. It's a shlep for her to get all the way out there, and I'm already there, besides, that's why they invented smart phones, so people wouldn't be bored waiting around."
"Are...are you sure?" Isaac asks, fiddling with the phone.
"Absolutely."
"Okay." Isaac makes the call, and he's pretty sure he can hear a strong hint of gratitude in his aunt's voice. When he hangs up, he turns to Stiles.
"Everything good?"
"Yeah." Isaac nods. "She wanted me to ask you to dinner."
"What, tonight?" Stiles asks.
"Yeah." Isaac bites his lip. "But you don't have to come, I know it's lame, and last minute, and I have no idea what she's making, and there was just no-"
"Isaac," Stiles cuts him off.
"Hmm?"
"Do you want me to come?" he asks, putting the car into park in the lot for the offices, looking over at Isaac, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side.
"I…" Isaac shrugs, because he doesn't want to say anything that makes Stiles feel obligated, but it would also be sort of nice, he thinks.
"I'll come." Stiles smiles, getting out of the car. "Sounds like fun, better than what I had planned."
"Oh, god, no, don't cancel your plans, I don't want-"
"Isaac," he shakes his head. "My dad's working late, my plans were to order a pizza, and eat the entire thing alone while watching Breaking Bad. Company is a step up."
"Oh." Isaac nods, and takes a few deep breaths before heading into Dr. Jacobsen's office.
He knows that this won't be an easy session, but Stiles coming over for dinner is something to look forwards to, and he intends to lean on that to get him through it.
A/N Sorry not the best chapter. Thanks for reading it in spite of that!