When Tuesday rolls around, Isaac sits in Dr. Jacobsen's office, and he knows that he should tell him about his father representing himself, but the words just aren't coming out. Isaac spent Saturday with Stiles, and Sunday with Clara, and he actually had a pretty nice weekend all things considered. He doesn't want to make himself feel low again by talking about the things that upset him.
"Stiles taught me how to throw a punch," he starts, looking up at the therapist. "Not...not at a person, at a punching bag. He said it might make me feel better."
"And did it?" Dr. Jacobsen asks.
"Yeah." Isaac nods.
"So you've been spending a lot of time with Stiles," Dr. Jacobsen says with a smile. "That's good, Isaac, really good. Having people in your corner at a time like this, it's very crucial."
"I know." Isaac nods. "I'm...I'm nervous about court," he admits.
"Of course you are." Dr. Jacobsen shrugs, because honestly, it would be more telling, more alarming, if Isaac wasn't nervous.
"My dad gave up his right to a lawyer," he says softly. "He's representing himself, he's doing it just to...just to get in my face, I'm really scared that it'll work. That I'll shut down, that he'll see just how much power he has over me."
"When is the court case?" Dr. Jacobsen asks.
"Starts next Thursday."
"Okay." Dr. Jacobsen nods. "Well, do you want me to be there?"
"What?"
"I can come, I can sit, and I can be there for you, another person in your corner besides your aunt."
"You'd do that for me?" Isaac asks.
"Of course." Dr. Jacobsen nods. "It's not all just about money for me, Isaac. I actually do like seeing my patients get better, so if there's anything I can do to help you over this bridge, I'm going to do it."
"Thank you," Isaac mumbles.
"I'll call your aunt for all of the information," he states, figuring, and correctly so, that Isaac already has enough, too much, going on. He doesn't need that kind of pressure, any added stress. "Is there anyone else that you want to be there?"
"Besides you and my aunt?" Isaac asks.
"Yes." Dr. Jacobsen nods.
"Can you do that?" he asks. "Just...invite people to a court case?"
"No one would kick a few people there to support you out. I can pretty much guarantee that, by this point, everyone in the court system has already made up their mind about your father...and most people out of the court system."
"What do you mean?" Isaac asks.
"The article that came out today."
"What article?"
"Oh...my god, you didn't know?" Dr. Jacobsen breaks his professionalism for a moment, shocked that Isaac didn't hear about the article, that he missed it. "It was in the paper this morning, Isaac." Dr. Jacobsen gets up and goes to his desk, returning with page 4 of the newspaper.
"No…" Isaac gulps, because it's exactly what he didn't need right now. "No, god, no!"
Why does this keep happening to him? Some scumbag journalist got ahold of the story, and he published it. Sure, nowhere in the story is Isaac mentioned, and it's a short article, but it's about Mr. Lahey going to court for assaulting a minor, and it hints so heavily that that minor was his own son, and Isaac is pretty sure that there's no one left in Beacon Hills now who doesn't know what happened.
Sure, they had their theories, and most people probably had a pretty good idea of what was true and what wasn't, but this is just the icing on the damn cake.
"Isaac, I'm so sorry," Dr. Jacobsen whispers.
Isaac says nothing. He doesn't know what to say, or if there is even anything really to say at all, because it's just like one blow after another, and he can't block the punches fast enough to protect himself.
"I can't do this," he says finally. "I can't go through this anymore!"
"Isaac, Isaac," Dr. Jacobsen looks at him. "I know it's hard, Isaac, and I know that having one person do so much to you, and to have it all come out the way that it is, but if you break, he wins, Isaac. He wins. No one wants to see him win." He looks Isaac right in his eyes. "We want to see you win, Isaac. Your aunt, myself, Stiles - and now probably all of Beacon Hills, this is good, Isaac."
Isaac just frowns, because how can this be good.
"This article? It puts everyone on your side, Isaac. And maybe it's scary, the idea of walking into a room and having everyone know wherever you go, but they will support you because of this."
"I...I don't want to be seen as a victim," Isaac mutters.
"So don't be," Dr. Jacobsen says decisively. "Walk into school tomorrow with your head held as high as you can possibly hold it, and the rest will fall into line, Isaac. Sure, there will be a few shitheads, but the rest of the people? They will stand by you. It's okay to lean on them."
"I just feel so weak," Isaac admits.
"So use the strength of others," Dr. Jacobsen insists. "With a situation like yours, when someone has been alone for as long as you have, it can be hard to see any other way, but there are at least a few people who were on your side before this - hell, even that boy who called the cops."
"Jackson," Isaac supplies.
"Right." Dr. Jacobsen nods. "Maybe your father won't see it, but if you walk around, owning this, working for it, getting better, he's losing, even if he doesn't know it. I know it isn't easy, having this be something of a competition, a tug of war, but you're stronger than he is, you always have been."
"That's not true," Isaac whispers.
"Yes, it is," Dr. Jacobsen insists. "He was so weak that he had to resort to beating his own child to feel a sense of worth. That's about as weak as it gets, and you? You're here now, ready to stand tall and take him down, and when that court day comes, he can look into your eyes, and he can say mean things, but he cannot touch you, Isaac."
Isaac nods.
"He wants you to fear him, Isaac, and I know that you do, but I want you to try so hard to pretend not to. When he comes to you, when he speaks at you, look right in his eyes, and answer his questions clearly and concisely, because there is no way that the truth can be bad. It's on your side one hundred percent."
"I…" Isaac shrugs. "Are people going to think I'm weak? When they see me tomorrow, when they look at me, when they know where all of those bruises really came from without it being speculation anymore, they'll think I'm weak."
"I can't control what other people think," Dr. Jacobsen states. "But the people who really know right from wrong, and strength from weakness will see that the fact that you're facing everything is the strongest you could possibly be."
"Is that what you think?" Isaac asks. "That I'm strong?"
"It's what I know."
"Oh." Isaac nods, shifting. "I'm out of time," he says, looking at the clock on the wall.
"You can stay longer if you want, I won't charge your aunt."
"No, that's okay." Isaac stands up, heading for the door, because he needs to process this. It's getting to be a lot, everything piling up on itself, and it already felt like it was so damn much before. He feels like he's drowning, and when he walks out of that door to see Stiles standing in the waiting room, some part of him feels like he's been pulled back to the surface, to breathe.
"Hi," Stiles says softly, smiling at him.
"What...what are you doing here?"
"I saw the article when I got home, and I knew you'd be here, and I wanted…" he shrugs. "I wanted to see you."
"Oh," Isaac says lamely, for lack of a better word.
"Come on." Stiles looks to the door. "I'll drive you home."
"But my aunt-"
"I called her," he states. "She said I could come pick you up."
"Oh." Isaac nods.
"Is that okay?" Stiles asks.
"Yeah, it is."
And really, it is. There's something comfortable about Stiles, and Isaac isn't sure how it got to be that way, but it is. He walks with Stiles to the car, and they sit in silence as they drive, but it's comfortable. He's not sure how they got close like this, but he's glad that he has someone to lean on.
When they get to Isaac's place, Stiles parks the car, but neither of them make any move to get out.
"Isaac, do you want to spend the night at my place?" Stiles asks. "We can do a little homework, go to bed early, and then tomorrow, when you get to school, you won't have to go in alone?"
Isaac isn't stupid. He knows that, whether people are on his side or not, whether they think he's strong, or weak, or what have you, they're definitely going to stare, and that walking through that door with Stiles would be nice, having someone else right next to him? That would be nice.
"It's a school night," Isaac says softly.
"It is." He nods. "But we're also not kids. My dad said it's alright, and I can't see your aunt saying no."
"That's...probably true," Isaac admits. She wants him to be happy, and she wants him to have friends. He knows that much is true, and it feels good, knowing that he has more than one person who's looking out for him. "I...I have nightmares sometimes," Isaac says softly. "They're loud, and I wouldn't want to wake you up."
"I sleep like the dead," Stiles shrugs. "Isaac, you don't have to if you don't want to, but if you want to, it's fine. I can sleep through your nightmares most likely, and we could have a good time."
"Okay, I'll ask my aunt."
Of course she says yes, and in less than 10 minutes, they're off to Stiles' house for the first sleepover that Isaac has had since he was very, very young.
A/N Gah, I'm sorry that so much of this has been filler, I promise it will start to get more exciting soon. I feel like such a scrub. Is anyone even still reading this? I just feel the need to show him and Stiles getting closer, but I'm starting to worry that it's too much. Do you guys want more of the angst and the action, or is the whole Stiles and Isaac just getting a feel for each other thing working so far? I KNOW for a fact the next chapter will be shippier. I've already started it.