Chapter 3: Bonds Of Blood

It was a widely known fact that Isaac Lahey was the boy that was out of bounds for anyone in Beacon Hills. So when people noticed "that McCall boy" hanging around him, people began to worry.

It was a valid worry; as many people had tried to help Isaac but had cause such pain to the boy because of his father that they had given up. But there was something different about Scott; that much they could see. There was something about that boy that was different in te way that he tried to help Isaac. Mrs. Mulligan, a lovely lady that stayed a few doors down from Isaac that had tried to give Isaac food a few times when he was growing up had once seen Scott taking Isaac by the hand and leading him away from the house at night. Since she knew that Lahey Sr. would be probably drunk and passed out somewhere in the house, she couldn't help but feel her heart swell in admiration for Scott.

Even the local church council that had once tried to get Isaac out of the care of Mr. Lahey agreed that Scott had been a tremendous help to Isaac because now, from the boy that never looked anyone in the eye, Isaac was beginning to glance at people more, and many of the ladies on the council also agreed, albeit in secret, that Scott had beautiful eyes.

Soon, the story of Scott McCall and how he was changing Isaac Lahey was spreading like wildfire, but Mr. Lahey himself never got wind of it. The elders of the town know how to protect their boy and protect him, they did. Even at school, teachers now stood up for Isaac and most if not all of the people that used to pick on him had stopped, some even trying to extend the hand of friendship to him. Stiles and Lydia had even begun hanging out with Isaac, helping him to understand that there was nothing to fear with people anymore, that he was safe with them and with Scott.

But Isaac still felt apprehensive sometimes, still jumping at loud sounds and still speaking quietly if none at all. He still barely ate anything, telling Scott that he couldn't eat a lot anyway, because of the fact that his stomach wouldn't accept that much food. Isaac had put on a bit of weight and Scott was happy about that, because at least when Scott touched Isaac's arm or shoulder, he could feel a bit more meat under the fabric of Isaac shirt.

This all happened in the space of two months, but in that time, Isaac still endured the constant beatings, the name-calling and worst of all, his father had realized that Isaac was gaining more weight and had begun to feed him less. But Isaac took all this into stride, never complaining, even when he was in pain. He never went to Scott for help, never showed any form of pain when he began to sit in the cafeteria with Stiles and Lydia. But only Scott knew how much of pain Isaac was in. which was why when Scott was with him, he never let Isaac out of his sight. Because Scott knew what had happened.

It was more degrading than shouting names at Isaac in public. It was more painful that beating Isaac with belts and fists. It was more humiliating than anything that Isaac had ever been faced with. Because what Scott didn't know, what Stiles and Lydia didn't know, what no one knew or suspected, was that Mr. Lahey HAD found out about Scott's help; that Mr. Lahey had found out about how this boy that had just moved into Beacon Hills dared to associate himself with his son.

Mr. Lahey never missed a beat from Scott. He knew that Scott had been giving Isaac meals, that Scott had taken Isaac away a few nights to spend the night in Scott's house, Isaac returning before the sun was up. He knew that many people that had tried to help Isaac were now beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe the drunk old Mr. Lahey had finally met his match. Mr. Lahey was furious, seething with anger and because of Scott, Isaac had forced his hand.

It was night time when Isaac had come back from finishing gardening Mr. Smith's house, Mr. Lahey was standing at the front door, smoking a cigarette and looking outside. Isaac glanced at him and said a quiet hello to his father. Mr. Lahey didn't respond to that and Isaac didn't know whether or not he could go and wash up. The answer had been a no.

"Isaac," Mr. Lahey said and blew out a puff of smoke, still not looking at Isaac. "Yes, dad?" Isaac said, standing near the stairs leading up to the house, hearing from the tone of his father's voice that there was something coming for him. "Isaac, tell me something," his father said and took another drag of his cigarette, "You and Scott fucking each other yet?" Isaac felt the sky crash and everything in the world die, including himself as his father finally looked at him. Isaac was paralyzed by that look and his father flicked the cigarette out of his hand and blew out the smoke. "C'mon, son, you can tell your old man, can't you?" Mr. Lahey said, taking a step towards his son. He grabbed Isaac's hair and pulled, making Isaac look up at him. He held Isaac's jaw in one hand and pressed painfully into Isaac's flesh. "Tell your old man, Isaac," Mr. Lahey said and then dropped his voice down to a whisper that was so filled with poisonous anger and rage that Isaac thought that this would be the last time he saw anything, because his father might actually kill him now. "Do you like someone fucking you, Isaac?" his father whispered and then threw Isaac into the house with such a force that Isaac went sprawling across the living room floor.

Mr. Lahey slammed the door shut and Isaac groaned in pain, but before he could turn around, Mr. Lahey caught hold of Isaac's shirt and began dragging his son towards the kitchen. Isaac tried to fight, but he was still a little disorientated from the hit to the floor. And suddenly he was falling again, this time down a flight of stairs into darkness. Tears sprang into Isaac's eyes and he curled up into a ball, trying to stave off the pain, but he heard the boot falls coming down the stairs and realized that it was far from over.

Mr. Lahey dragged Isaac up from the corner he was in and slammed him against a wall. "You know, Isaac," Mr. Lahey said and grabbed something behind Isaac that he couldn't see, "Fucking men is a sin." Isaac tried to get himself out of the hold that his father had him in, but there was nothing he could do. He felt rough rope being tied around his hand and looked down to see his father trying his wrists together painfully. "D-Dad please…" Isaac began and Mr. Lahey hit him hard across the face. "Don't call me that you fucking bastard," Mr. Lahey shouted and grabbed Isaac's hands and raised it above his head, hooking it to a hook that had been put on the ceiling.

Isaac looked up and then to his father who was unbuckling his belt. "Dad, d-don't… D-daddy plea…se…" Isaac pleaded weakly, still not able to concentrate on anything much. "I told you," Isaac heard Mr. Lahey say, "To not," hit on the back, "Call," hit, "Me," Hit, "THAT!" HIT HIT HIT HIT. Isaac cried out, unable to move, his father hitting him with his belt so much that Isaac felt his skin tearing through his t-shirt. After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Lahey stopped and Isaac's shirt was streaked with blood. Mr. Lahey hadn't only hit him on the back, but on the front and anywhere he could reach.

Isaac was faced downward, tears still falling off the end of his nose, but he was silent, his body still jerking a little from the pain he was feeling. Mr. Lahey left the room and Isaac tried to look up, but his body wouldn't allow it. He was in so much of pain that he doubted that he would be able to go to school the next day. Isaac hung there and wondered if his father would beat him to death and then bury him somewhere in the garden. No, his father wouldn't go through all that trouble, Isaac thought, he would just dump my body in the lake on the outskirts of town. That way, all the evidence would be washed away and by the time they find the body, it would be pretty much decomposed already.

"Thinking about Scott, Isaac?" a voice came from beside him and Isaac didn't answer. He heard a clink of a bottle and smelled the aroma of whiskey. He couldn't see what his father was doing because he was so weak, but he heard a quiet gulping and knew that his father was drinking a measure of whiskey. "Ahhh," his father said, "Nothing like a little whiskey to whet the tongue." Then Isaac heard a curious sound, like a blade or scissors. Then he felt the fabric of his shirt being cut off and froze. "Oh god," he thought just before all his senses screamed and he found himself screaming too as he felt the alcohol running down his back and over the cuts. He screamed and his father hit him again, this time harder than before. "Don't even try, Isaac," Mr. Lahey said, "No one's going to come for you."

When the burning had died down a little, Isaac managed to look up at his father and saw nothing but a blank slate staring back at him. "D-…Dad…" Isaac said, "I…m S-s…sorr…y." His father smiled at him and took Isaac's chin in his hand again, this time more gently. "No you're not," he said and put down the bottle and let go off Isaac. "So you like taking it up the ass, right Isaac?" his father said and Isaac looked down again, shutting his eyes tightly and telling himself that this isn't happening. Then he felt hands on his jeans, taking them off and looked up again. This time his father had malice and hate in his eyes and Isaac truly began to fear for his life. He struggled against his father, adrenaline coursing through his veins suddenly, but his father ripped off his jeans anyway and slapped Isaac a few times.

Mr. Lahey walked to the side of the basement and brought out two heavy dumbbells. He set one on each side of Isaac and then got more rope to tie his son's feet to each of the dumbbells, holding Isaac in place. "Dad stop!" Isaac shouted as his boxers were removed and he was naked in front of his father. "There's nothing you have that I haven't seen before, Isaac," his father said and then did the most terrible thing a father could do to a son. He touched Isaac. He touched Isaac in places that no father ever should touch his son.

Isaac tried to fight against his father, but his body reacted anyway and when his father held Isaac's erection, Isaac looked at his father, humiliated and with tears pouring down his face. "Stop… Daddy please," he said through his tears, but Mr. Lahey was unhearing. "You really are a little faggot, aren't you?" Mr. Lahey said and then moved away from his son. Isaac sobbed, ashamed and degraded, humiliated and disgusted. And then he felt pain like no other.

He screamed and writhed in pain his body trying to get away from it but it was held in place. His wrists and ankles were being sliced by the rope, but he didn't feel a thing. Because Mr. Lahey was shoving something up Isaac's ass. Mr. Lahey was pushing something into his son without lubricant and it was so painful that Isaac's mind was blank.

"You like that, don't you Isaac?" his father said to him and pulled the thing out and pushed it in again, "You like the way that feels?" "STOP!" Isaac shouted and his father put his hand over his mouth, cutting off the sound… and then another hand on Isaac's hip and Isaac opened his eyes and felt like he was going to throw up. It was his father. His father was inside him.

Later, when it was over and Mr. Lahey had cut the ropes from his son's hands. Isaac was lying on the floor where his blood and semen streaked it and he was quietly crying. His father had gone upstairs, but had instructed Isaac to clear up his mess before he cleared out the house. Isaac lay there and felt like his father had taken the last thing from him. His father had violated him in ways that Isaac thought would never happen. But all the humiliation couldn't amount to the fact that Isaac had to wipe and scrub his own blood and semen from the floor.

Isaac found some clothes to wear from the laundry that was in the basement and painfully walked up the stairs of the basement. His legs were hurting and his wrists were still bleeding a little, but nothing compared to the pain that he felt in his anus. It was throbbing and it hurt every time he took a step, but he knew that he had to make it to Scott's house. Because he knew that he needed medical attention and there was no way he was going to make it to the hospital by himself. He got to the front door of his house and stumbled down the stairs of the porch then stopped. Isaac realized that there was nothing to support himself on from his porch, to Scott's house; that he would have to walk there unaided. The thought of it weakened his heart a little, but he knew he had to do this. So with the strength that he was amazed he still had, Isaac Lahey made his way across a road.