A/N I know it's been a really long time since I updated, but I finally got the urge to pick this story back up. I'm going to do my best to finish it this time! Thanks for anyone who is still reading. I really, really appreciated it."
It's not until Sunday that Stiles actually gets to see Isaac, and even then, it's because he decides to drop by and see if Isaac is receptive to visitors.
To his surprise, it's Isaac who answers the door, and there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he realizes who's calling.
"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "I...didn't think you'd come around."
"Why wouldn't I?" Stiles asks, tilting his head to the side.
"After the court case, I just didn't think you'd want to be around me anymore." Isaac shrugs, but opens the door wider so that Stiles can make his way inside.
"Well that's stupid." Stiles looks at Isaac, brow furrowed. "Why would you think that?"
"I saw the way you looked during the trial. You looked like you were physically uncomfortable."
"I was." Stiles shrugs. "Hate neck ties."
"Oh." Isaac bites his lip. "Well you didn't have to wear one, but I-"
"Isaac, that was a joke. I was uncomfortable, but not because of anything you did. I was uncomfortable because it wasn't exactly easy hearing all of that, you know? Knowing what he did to you, it made me feel sick to my stomach."
"Oh." Isaac looks down at the ground. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Shouldn't have what, Isaac?" Stiles asks. "Asked me to be there? Because you didn't. I made that choice myself. Shouldn't have told the truth? Shouldn't have had an abusive dad? None of my discomfort was your fault, Isaac. None of it. I'm not upset with you. At all, and if I were, it would be completely misguided, stupid, and honestly, downright fucking rude." He doesn't stop there, though, because he's got more to say. "You're my friend, Isaac, and hearing about all the bad things that happened to you, watching that asshole antagonize you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life, so yeah, yes, I was uncomfortable, but I don't want you to think for a second that I want to stop being your friend because of it, okay?"
"Okay." Isaac nods, and a lump rises in his throat. He's not sure if it it's because he feels like he's being berated, or because he's so relieved, maybe a combination of the two, conjoined with the fact that all he's felt like doing the last couple of days is cry, but he's been holding it back as much as he can.
"Oh...god, Isaac, I'm sorry," Stiles gulps, looking at the other man. "I...come on way too strong, I said that too harshly, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like I was telling you off, I..." He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should just go."
"No!" Isaac shakes his head. "Please...please don't."
"No?" Stiles asks, turning around.
"No," Isaac confirms. "Stay. Please?"
"Yeah." Stiles smiles. "Of course. Hell yeah."
"Cool." Isaac shifts. "Look, I...I know it wasn't easy for you to be there, and I saw how uncomfortable you were, and I'm sorry, but I...it really helped me, you know, to have you there, so...thank you. And that CD, I've listened to it like 40 times, I'm used to feeling totally alone, and I don't anymore. Thank you."
"Hey man, no problem." Stiles smiles at Isaac, his grin wide, now that they seem to be past the awkward part, and it honestly feels good, knowing that he made a difference in someone else's life, that he was able to help Isaac.
"What...what do you want to do?" Isaac asks, looking at Stiles.
"I...did not come with a game plan," Stiles admits. "You wanna go somewhere?"
Isaac bites his lip, looking around the house. Aside from the run with Jackson, he's pretty much stayed inside since Thursday, and getting out, doing something, it would be good for him, he knows that.
"Can...can we go to the gym again?" he asks.
"You wanna hit stuff?"
Isaac shrugs, then nods.
"Cool, sure." Stiles agrees. "Put on gym shoes and we'll get out of here."
Isaac disappears up the stairs and does just that, getting into the car with Stiles.
It's a quiet ride, neither really sure what to say after all of the drama of Thursday, so they say nothing. When they get to the gym, Stiles stands back, watching Isaac have at the punching bag.
His stance is better this time, he doesn't need Stiles' guidance, doesn't need Stiles to set up the punches for him, and Stiles just watches. The look of determination on Isaac's face, the concentration, it's almost haunting, and there's something about the way that Isaac's light curls fall over his face when he's punching the bag that catches Stiles attention.
He notices as Isaac's face starts to glisten, and at first, he assumes it's all sweat, until he notices that there are definitely tears mixing in with the salty sweat, and Isaac's barely taking break between punches now.
He's going too hard.
"Isaac, whoa there," Stiles states, moving closer, but staying out of the way of the flying fists.
Isaac doesn't respond, doesn't even really seem to note that Stiles is there, he just keeps going, and going, and going.
"Isaac!" Stiles reaches out, grabbing Isaac's wrist as it flies back. "Stop. You're going to hurt yourself!"
For a moment, when Isaac turns, it's almost like he doesn't recognize Stiles, but then the arm in Stiles' hand goes limp, and Stiles lets go just in time for Isaac to come barreling into him.
He's hugging him, and he can feel Isaac's body shaking with sobs.
It's awkward, because Isaac is a little bit taller than Stiles, and Stiles ends up buckling with the surprise of the embrace, and they fall into a sitting position together, ignoring everyone else in the gym.
"Hey, it's okay," Stiles says softly, rubbing circles on Isaac's back, hoping to calm him. "It's okay, you're safe, you are."
"I'm sorry," Isaac manages to choke out, the words barely audible, because he's got his face half buried in Stiles' neck.
"It's okay, it really is. Don't apologize to me. I'm here for you, Isaac. You're upset, you have every right to be."
Stiles pulls the other boy in tighter, holding him close, wanting him to know that he cares, that he's here, that he's going to help keep Isaac safe, and most importantly, that there's nothing Isaac can do to make him feel differently, since it's clear that some part of Isaac still thinks that whatever made his father start hurting him was his own fault.
Isaac is aware that all of this is happening in public, in the gym, in a space that isn't just for them to be hugging him, but he doesn't care. He can't stop himself, and the tears are still coming, and he's pressed against Stiles, and he doesn't want to be anywhere else doing anything else.
Even if people are staring.
"I think," Stiles says finally. "That that's enough for today." He pauses. "Of the punching practice, I mean, not…" he trails off. As far as he's concerned, Isaac is welcome to hug him as much as he wants.
Isaac just nods, because he hasn't yet found the words to argue, and he peels himself away from Stiles.
One of the things that Isaac likes best about his time with Stiles is that Stiles doesn't push conversation. Sometimes he opens his mouth and decides not to say something, and Stiles doesn't push him to know what it was, he doesn't speak just for the sake of filling a silent room with words, and Isaac really likes that, a lot.
In fact, Stiles doesn't speak until they're back in the car.
"So, do you...want me to take you home, or…"
"I…" Isaac pauses, trying to figure out exactly what it is that he does want from Stiles. "I...do you think that you might want to spend the night?" he asks, his voice soft. He doesn't expect Stiles to hold him, not the way that he did the night Isaac stayed at Stiles', but the comfort of having him there, he assumes will be nice. Having Stiles around has been nice as far as he has experienced it, at least.
Stiles smiles, nodding. "Yeah, I mean, because it's a school night I'll have to ask my dad, but yeah, yes." He smiles. "I would like that. A lot."
"Okay, cool," Isaac says, realizing that he probably should have asked Clara. He pulls out his phone, sending her a quick text, hoping that she'll reply with a 'yes' and that he won't have to revoke the offer.
She agrees, and Stiles' dad does as well, and it's not at all before the boys are stopping by Stiles' house, grabbing his things, and then on their way back to Isaac's.
It's not until they get through the front door that Isaac realizes he has no idea at all what to do with Stiles in his house.
It's awkward, and Clara helps them get through it by making dinner, but once they've cleaned up, watched some television, and decided it's time for bed, things get a little messy again.
Isaac wants to ask Stiles to sleep in his room. He can almost remember the feeling of calm that washed over him when he woke in Stiles' arms, and the way it stayed when he rested there, waiting for his alarm to go off, but he can't quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he shows Stiles to the guest room.
Stiles says nothing about, accepts the space gladly, though as Isaac walks out of the room, Stiles is watching him.
Isaac isn't the only one with a vivid memory of what happened the last time they had a sleepover, so Stiles gets himself ready for bed and lies down, scrolling through his phone, trying to stay awake (not that it's hard) wondering when, or if, Isaac is going to start crying out.
As it turns out, it's a little after 1 AM, and Stiles leaps out of the guest bed, heading down the hall towards Isaac's room when he runs smack into Clara, doing the exact same thing.
"Oh...hey," he rubs the back of his neck.
"You can go back to sleep, Stiles, I'll take care of Isaac," Clara says, tired, as though she does this every night, and it really seems to Stiles like she might.
"No, no, it's okay, why don't you...I've got this one, okay?" Stiles smiles at her. "I think I can make it okay, and you should get some sleep."
Clara pauses, looking Stiles up and down, trying to decide if this is a good idea or not. She wants to tell him to go back to sleep, but it doesn't look like he was even asleep at all, and he looks so eager, so determined to be helpful, that she figures if it doesn't work she can always interject later.
"Alright. But if you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me," she says finally.
"I promise, I'll take good care of him," Stiles says softly.
Clara heads back to her room and Stiles gently opens the door to Isaac's room, his face twisting in sadness to his friend tossing and turning on the bed, the blankets tangled around him. He walked forwards, putting a hand on Isaac's shoulder.
"Hey, Isaac, it's me, Stiles," he said softly, gently shaking the young man. "You gotta wake up, you're having a bad dream, it's just a dream." He tries to keep his voice level, as soothing as possible, and hopes for the best as he shakes Isaac once more. "Isaac, come on, get out of there, buddy," he says softly.
When Isaac's eyes open, he looks around frantically, trying to place himself, but when his gaze falls on Stiles' face, his expression softens.
"Stiles?" He asks, his voice thick.
"Yeah, buddy," Stiles smiles, patting his shoulder. "It's me, you're safe, you're just fine, okay?"
"Yeah." Isaac nods, sitting up, rubbing his eyes before trying to pull the blankets back together.
"You okay?" Stiles asks.
"Yeah." Isaac nods.
"Okay." Stiles stands to go for the door.
"Wait!" Isaac reaches out, grabbing his hand. Stiles turns, looking back at his friend. "Will...you stay?" Isaac asks softly. "Please?"
"Yeah, of course," Stiles says with a smile. 'I was just going back to get my pillow, I left it in the guest room."
"Oh." Isaac lets go of Stiles' hand, glad that Stiles can't see him flushing in the darkness of the room.
Stiles makes a quick trip to the guest room and returns to Isaac's to see the other man just finishing sorting the bed out. He crawls in beside Isaac, and this time when Stiles puts his arm around Isaac and pulls him close, they're both still very much awake.
Though not for long.
A/N Thanks again for continuing to read! I hope to have a new chapter up soon.