Isaac doesn't go to school or therapy on Friday, but around 6 PM, he walks about a mile, clutching a plate of cookies that Clara made. He's nervous, but if there's anyone he knows he can trust outside of the little circle he's built, it's Mr. Whittemore, and Jackson.
The fact that he thinks that is sort of jarring to him, considering the way that Jackson treats people most of the time, but he took the stand to protect Isaac, and his father worked hard for him. They deserve to be thanked, and Isaac's nervous about it, but he knows that Clara is right across the street, at home, if he needs her.
He almost loses his nerve completely when he Danny opens the door, Jackson skidding down the hall next to him.
"Hey, Isaac." Danny smiles, opening the door wider.
"I...um…"
"Hey." Jackson appears right at the door.
"Cookies," Isaac holds them out.
"You know what?" Danny smiles. "I totally forgot I have a thing. Jackson, I will see you tomorrow." And just like that, Danny is sliding out the door, and heading to his car. Isaac's eyes follow him for a second before Jackson calls his attention back.
"Thanks, man." Jackson takes the plate. "You wanna come in? Have one with me?"
Isaac nods, because he knows that he has to, he needs to thank Jackson for everything, and maybe he's still reeling from what happened at court, but he knows how much he owes Jackson, and he knows that if Jackson and his father would work so hard to protect him, they aren't going to hurt him.
"I...I wanted to thank you," Isaac whispers. "For standing up for me in court yesterday."
"Hey, don't mention it." Jackson smiles, sitting down at the kitchen table, and grabbing a cookie, gesturing for Isaac to sit across from him. "I was just doing the right thing."
"I think," Isaac whispers, looking over at Jackson. "That you saved my life."
Jackson doesn't really know what to say to that, and he shifts, taking a bite of the cookie, chewing it slowly, saving his time.
It's a weird area, because it's sort of true. It was made very clear at the court case that Isaac would never have stood up for himself, and there is only so much abuse that someone can endure before they snap, and don't make it, but at the same time, admitting that, yes, he saved Isaac's life by making a phone call feels kind of strange.
"What he was doing was wrong, Isaac," Jackson says softly. "That's all there is to it."
Jackson isn't like Stiles. He doesn't always know the right thing to say, or have kind hands, and soft words, but he's still comforting. Stiles makes Isaac feel calmer, but Jackson sort of restored Isaac's faith in other people. He had no reason, no obligation to call CPS, but he did anyways.
"I...I don't…" Isaac gulps. "I'm not very good at talking to people, and I just really wanted to say thank you, to you and your father."
"He's not here right now, but I'll pass it along." He smiles.
"Okay." Isaac nods, and stands to leave, but Jackson stops him.
"Wait." He says softly, and Isaac turns around. "Do you want to go for a run?"
"What?"
"That helps me, you know...when I'm not feeling great, and you're on the team, so, I know you're capable of running."
"You...want to go for a run with me?" he asks.
"Yeah." Jackson shrugs. "Why not? You're my teammate."
Isaac isn't really sure what to say to that at all. He's not used to having people want to do stuff with him, and this isn't just anyone, this is Jackson Whittemore. They've been on the same lacrosse team for like two years now, and until recently, he's never shown any interest in Isaac at all, let alone been nice to him.
"I...okay." Isaac nods.
Jackson disappears, and returns moments later with an old t-shirt and a pair of lacrosse shorts.
"Go change." Jackson smiles, gesturing towards the bathroom door before disappearing again, undoubtedly to change himself.
The fact that Jackson is smiling at him, and wants to go for a run with him, is all sort of confusing to Isaac, who would really just as soon hide in his room, but he knows that this is a step that he needs to take, a run that he needs to take.
He goes into the bathroom, changes, and he's only just gotten out when Jackson re-enters the hallway, wearing sneackers, track pants, and an expensive looking athletic top.
"You set the pace," Jackson states. "I'll match."
It's no secret that, out of the two of them, Jackson is by far the better athlete, so it's a good thing he's letting Isaac set pace, because Isaac is pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to keep up with a pace that Jackson would normally do on his own.
A part of him feels weak jogging next to Jackson as they start out, because he knows how much better Jackson is than him at all things athletic, but after the first mile of silence, it gets more comfortable.
The silence doesn't feel strange and empty anymore, and the sound of their sneakers hitting the pavement is a rhythm in sync, and it's sort of nice. They don't have to say anything, but the company? At least to Isaac, is nice.
Jackson doesn't speak until they're slowing at the park in the middle of the town, heading for the water fountain. Jackson lowers his head, drinks, and as he wipes his mouth, he starts to talk.
"I know it's not the same, my situation and yours," he starts out, and Isaac just sort of looks at him stupidly, because of course it's not the same.
Jackson has it all. He's got good looks, the hottest girl in school on his arm, he's the best fucking athlete the Beacon Hills lacrosse team has seen like a million years, he's smart enough to do okay, and his parents are fucking loaded. He has it all. Isaac is only just starting to have any good things in his life, so he doesn't really see how their situations are comparable.
"My parents," he states, looking at Isaac, clearly sensing the confusion on the other teen's face. "They're not my parents. I mean, they are, but...I'm adopted." He bites his lip. Sure, it's something that some people know - Danny, Lydia, anyone who really thinks hard about it, but there's no reason why Isaac would know that.
"Oh," Isaac says stupidly, not sure how he's supposed to respond to that.
"I mean, my parents are dead, too," Jackson whispers. "I didn't know them, they died right when I was born, but I just...I don't know, I thought for some reason that might make sense to tell you, but now it just sort of seems really unhelpful."
"No, no!" Isaac shakes his head. "I...thank you." He smiles weakly at Jackson, and the whole interaction, it feels awkward, but it's different, having someone reaching out to him, and he wants to reach back, he really does, because he wants to have friends. Plural.
"Okay." Jackson nods.
"And Jackson, what you did for me? That was helpful. Making that call, getting up in court...you...you got me out of a situation that I would never have been able to get out of myself. I will never be able to thank you enough for that."
There was nothing he could do, he knew, to repay Jackson for what he had done to help him, nothing that he could ever do that would even out the saving of his own life, because he wasn't brave enough to save someone else's, he was pretty sure, even if it came down to it. He may be free of his father at least, but he still felt weak.
"Don't worry about it." Jackson shrugs as though it's nothing. "I did the right thing, and now it's done. That's that."
He speaks of it so mechanically, and maybe it's because he doesn't want to get too feelsy, so Isaac lets it go at that, but it's nice to know that there's someone else in his corner - even now that the trial has come and gone, he's not alone, and if he's got Jackson as a friend, or even an amiable acquaintance, the rest of the lacrosse team is sure to at least have his back, especially after the display they all made at lunch the previous week.
It feels good to know that.
"Anyways, we should get going," Jackson states.
Isaac nods, starting back down the road, Jackson matching his pace instantly, seemlessly, as though it's the exact pace he wanted to go, meant to go.
It's silence all the way to the block where Isaac lives.
"I'll wash these," he promises, gesturing the clothes he's wearing. "And bring them back to you at school on Monday."
"Cool." Jackson nods. "I'll bring yours, too."
"Oh, god, thanks." Isaac totally forgot the clothes that he'd left folded neatly on the floor of Jackson's bathroom, and he feels bad for leaving a mess, but Jackson doesn't look angry, at all...which, given what he initially thought of Jackson is surprising to him, but it seems to be turning out that Jackson's not at all like he thought.
"We should do this again sometime," Jackson says, not waiting for an answer from Isaac before jogging off.
Isaac goes back to his room, smiling, because for the first time in forever, things are really starting to look up for him - his father is gone, he's got a caregiver who genuinely cares for him, he's got a friend in Stiles, and if not a friend yet, someone he can trust to have his back, in Jackson, and it's comforting.
A/N I am INCREDIBLY sorry for the long wait you guys. Things have not been the easiest for me this past month, so bear with what will probably slower posting from here on out, but don't worry, this story WILL get finished. If you haven't seen me post in a couple of weeks, feel FREE to nag me on tumblr, my URL is purplehoodiesandleatherjackets. I love you all, and hope I still have readers! I am also well aware that this is maybe not up to my standard caliber for this story, but I promise to try and get things really moving again in the next chapter.