It was three days after Lexie's birthday party that it happened, two days after Isaac had spent the day lounging around with him, pretending they were a two wolf Pack again just for a little while. And Stiles wouldn't deny that it was comforting to have Isaac's scent covering his room, clinging to the back of his tongue every time he breathed in. And what's more, he could smell Isaac's contentment, his happiness and that just made coming to Beacon Hills again just a little bit more bearable. He really had missed the guy, he wouldn't deny that.
There was just something about Isaac that triggered his protective side. Maybe it was Isaac's vulnerability. Maybe it was just that Isaac was the only one who understood.
And that was why when Isaac rang him at one in the morning, Stiles didn't even hesitate. He didn't ask why Isaac was ringing him instead of his own Alpha. He just listened to Isaac's pleading voice, to his panic, found out where he was and ran. He slammed his jeep into reverse and was glad his Dad was the Sheriff because the speed he drove at he was seriously close to being pulled over.
Isaac was already looking on the verge of collapsing when Stiles reached him, which was impressive considering he was fighting three wolves. He had a gash torn across his chest and another on the side of his neck, an obvious attempt by one of the strangers to tear out his trachea.
Stiles didn't even wait until the car had completely stopped moving, he just flung himself out of the jeep, glad that there was no one about to hear his snarl or see him as he shifted fluidly from human to his Beta-form. He caught one of the wolves around the neck, flinging him off of Isaac and into a wall, watching out of the corner of his eye as Isaac crumpled to the floor.
There were two males and one female and as soon as the first male bounced off the wall, the second was coming at him. But the female, she hung back, staring at him with a strange look on her face. Stiles braced himself close to the ground over Isaac and then leapt, meeting the other male Beta in mid-air. It knocked some of the air out of his lungs when they collided, but he recovered quicker, flipping them and getting his teeth into the other wolf's throat. He bit down, trying not to gag on the blood that instantly rushed into his mouth.
It tasted disgusting, but he'd done this before.
Stiles wasn't weak anymore. His Pack had had its trouble. They'd had to learn to defend themselves, had to learn how to no longer be overlooked. Ever since they'd lost one of their own. Callum's father. They refused to lose another; and so they had trained and they had taken down anything that had posed any threat to their tight family unit.
As they landed, Stiles jerked his head sideways and felt the rival Beta's throat come loose. A whole chunk of flesh and windpipe was suddenly separate from the guy's neck and it reminded Stiles almost of Peter, of his death. But he didn't have time to think about that, didn't have time to think anything as he spat the chunk of flesh out in disgust and rolled away from the body, positioning himself back over Isaac and snarling.
"Shit, he's one of Rory's," the female cursed low under her breath, but Stiles still heard her, of course he did. "We have to go," she was a smarter one, he had to give her that. She grabbed the arm of the other Beta, the one he had thrown against the wall and started dragging him away with a last, sad glance at their fallen Pack mate.
Stiles would have followed, would have ended them too if he hadn't had Isaac underneath him, his pitiful moans blocking out everything else that Stiles was aware of. He turned back to human almost instantly, save for his claws, which he used to shred Isaac's t-shirt. And it wasn't even weird anymore for him to duck in and swipe his tongue over the worst gash across Isaac's belly. He had loads more on his chest and no doubt some on his back, but that was the worst one, so Stiles focussed on that and lapped at it for a minute or so, helping it knit back together slowly.
Isaac whimpered, but he also made a sound of thanks and of comfort when Stiles lifted him off the dirty ground. Isaac's scent was twisted with pain, fear and relief and it was thick and tangible in the air. In some weird way, it made Stiles want to cry. He thought it would probably look weird if anyone saw him, the scrawny Stiles Stilinski carrying Isaac bridal style. Except he wasn't so scrawny anymore and he had super werewolf strength on top of that, so it was almost effortless.
He managed to arrange Isaac awkwardly into the passenger side of his jeep and then he was slamming the vehicle into reverse again and breaking even more speed limits on the way over to Derek's house.
He knew it probably wasn't the best idea to be the new wolf in town and to wander right up to their threshold with one of their injured wolves, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. Isaac would heal better with his Pack around him and he'd be safer. Besides, Stiles had calls to make. Because he'd been recognised, recognised as being one of Rory's. Recognised as being one of Rory's in Beacon Hills. That shouldn't have happened and Stiles had a nagging feeling that he knew something pulling at the back of his mind. He just couldn't quite remember it.
Derek must have heard him coming, because even though it was about two in the morning by this point, he was standing out on the porch waiting for him when Stiles drove up. And Stiles knew it must have looked suspicious, having blood on his mouth and carrying a bleeding and barely conscious Isaac out of his jeep. But right then, he didn't care, because this was Isaac. He didn't even care that the entire of Derek's Pack seemed to be in the one house, he just walked past Derek and followed Isaac's whispered directions to the room that reeked of the young werewolf.
"Don't leave me," Isaac muttered, clinging to the back of Stiles' neck when he lowered him down onto the bed. And Stiles knew that he didn't just mean don't leave him alone in the house and it was both guilt and that old sense of loyalty that had him gently pressing his forehead against Isaac's.
Derek was staring at him weirdly, like he didn't know what to make of the person in front of him. Like he didn't know what to make of a Stiles with a blood stained mouth. A werewolf Stiles with a blood stained mouth, comforting a member of another Pack. Stiles didn't want to focus on that though, so instead he just dipped his head down and started lapping at Isaac's wounds again and he knew technically that he shouldn't be doing that, that he should be letting Derek take care of his own Pack member, but Stiles couldn't help himself and Derek just seemed frozen.
He just sat there staring at Stiles, mouth hanging slightly open and looking like he was seeing a ghost again.