I am truly overwhelmed by the favorites and follows! More than I could've ever expected or hoped for. So thank you all! Thank you to those who have reviewed especially, I would love to hear more of your thoughts on the story!
I just realized that I never put a disclaimer! I don't own Teen Wolf, tragically.
True to his word, Sheriff Stilinski was there when his son next woke up. Stiles was still in a hazy cloud of dull pain and drug induced numbness, so he wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed. However, he was certain that far too much time had gone by with his father getting no sleep.
He insisted that on what may have been the third night of his hospital stay that his father leave early in the evening so he could get a full night of sleep before he had to work the next day.
After a great deal of haggling - with some assistance from Melissa, who agreed to help sneak the Sheriff in to visit Stiles briefly before visiting hours and John's shift at the station began - Stiles had finally convinced him to go home.
Scott, who had been spending a similarly unhealthy amount of time visiting Stiles (especially given his current GPA) took the opportunity of the Sheriff's absence to finally address the elephant in the room that lingered between them.
"I'm sorry, man," Scott began.
Stiles was quick to roll his eyes and interrupt with a sheepish, "Scott-"
"No, hold on, Stiles, I've been thinking about this a lot...like seriously, a lot, your dad hasn't left for longer than 3 minutes since your surgery. Just let me get through this. You're...you're my best friend, man, and that was really scary. And if I had known - no, because I did know, sort of. That's what I'm upset about. I could see you weren't at your best, and I should've asked you about it. I should've confronted them about this. You've been swept up into all this werewolf drama because of me, so I need to be more aware of how it affects you..."
Stiles waited to see if Scott would continue before mentioning, "Well, technically I got you into the whole werewolf thing-"
"You know what I mean, Stiles," Scott murmured, but a small grin started to replace is dejected puppy face.
"I know, Scott. I know what you mean. And I...reluctantly accept some of the blame for this, as I probably should've told you sooner," Stiles paused before attempting to joke, "But I'm putting most of the blame on Erica for playing tug of war with my arm."
Scott's gaze darkened and he said, "Seriously, Stiles. I was as vague as possible in my explanation of how you broke your arm, but I want to tell your dad she pushed you down the stairs-"
"No-"
"Stiles, just because we can't tell him the truth doesn't mean she should be off the hook-"
"No, Scott. No. She...she didn't know what she was doing." At Scott's narrowed gaze, Stiles amended, "Okay, yeah it was a power play, mess with my head move, the same shit they've been doing. But she didn't know she's been actually hurting me. I'm like...93% sure."
Scott tried to hold his ground but was forced to cave quickly to Stiles' remarkably stubborn will.
"That's how I know they're weaning you off of the good stuff," Scott huffed out, "suddenly, you're snarky and impossible to reason with again."
"First of all, don't act like you didn't miss this. Second, I would hardly call your average train of thought reason." Stiles winced when he felt a pull on his shoulder before adding, "Third, don't remind me about the weaning. I miss the good stuff."
The kicked puppy face returned and Stiles forced himself to smile and bat Scott's hand away from trying to take his pain. Scott had taken on far too much pain in the past couple of days, leaving him looking very drained. It was a testament to how out of sorts Stiles had been, for he wouldn't have let his friend absorb that much.
After a bit of chatting and a promise to return the next day with Allison and Lydia (who would be driving separately so Chris Argent didn't come after Scott with a shotgun), Scott was finally convinced by Stiles to go home and get some rest.
As he was gathering his things, Scott and Stiles heard a soft knock at the door.
Expecting Scott's mom, Stiles felt his mouth drop open in shock when Isaac poked his head into the room.
Scott actually let out a fairly ferocious sounding growl, before biting out, "I don't know what you think you're doing here, but you should get the hell out before I make you get out."
Isaac looked uncharacteristically nervous. Well, uncharacteristic of the werewolf Isaac. Stiles was struck by how much this Isaac reminded him of the one Stiles' had been certain was suffering from domestic abuse.
And the nerves didn't seem to be related to the other werewolf snarling at him, but focused on the human who was lying in a hospital bed.
"Scott," Stiles murmured gently, startling briefly when Scott turned to him with the barest hint of fangs starting to elongate. "Scott, it's alright."
"It's not alright, Stiles, he-"
"Scott, he didn't do anything-"
"That's...that's actually what I'm here to talk about," Isaac interrupted with a quick clear of his throat. He glanced between Scott, who was doing his best to block the hospital bed, and Stiles, who was practically falling off the hospital bed to lean around Scott. "Would you be willing to talk to me for a minute, Stiles?"
"Like hell," Scott growled before Stiles even fully opened his mouth.
"Scott. Scott, go home, I would like to hear what he has to say." When Scott made no move and continued to glare at Isaac for another minute, Stiles amended, "Fine, Scott, pretend to go home to appease me and then wait beneath my hospital window eavesdropping and making sure he leaves me in one piece. Good?"
Scott allowed himself one more minute of heated glaring before shouldering his bag and giving Stiles a brief farewell, all without once breaking eye contact with Isaac.
When Scott vacated the room, Isaac took the opportunity to move a little further into the hospital room.
"Do you mind if I sit...?" Isaac began.
Stiles huffed out a laugh, saying, "Isaac, at my best I couldn't prevent you from doing whatever you want. I'm not going to pick a fight with you for sitting in a crappy hospital chair."
Stiles had meant it as a joke - even if it was technically true - but he couldn't help the small tinge of bitterness that worked its way into his statement.
Isaac gave a minor flinch, but settled into a chair nonetheless.
"How are you feeling?" Isaac began, fiddling with the edges of his jacket and carefully avoiding eye contact.
"They're giving me less pain killers, so I am only now starting to feel anything," Stiles responded. "Seriously, dude, you're a werewolf so this stuff probably doesn't affect you, but they have made some amazing medical advancements." Isaac was giving Scott a run for his money on the wounded puppy look - which, seriously, how is everyone pulling this off when Stiles is the only one who is actually injured. Stiles couldn't stop himself from trying to ease Isaac's guilt with, "Really, Isaac. You can tell when I'm lying. It doesn't feel good, but I'm not in much pain right now and it's going to heal." It really wasn't Isaac's fault, even if he wasn't entirely innocent.
Isaac finally made eye contact with Stiles and his shoulders sagged a bit with a slight release of tension.
"I just wanted to, uhh...apologize."
After a long pause, Stiles couldn't help but respond, "Wow, so emotional and heartfelt. Don't hold back on my account, man. Let it out." He gave Isaac his best shit-eating grin and was pleased to see a small tug on Isaac's lips.
"I'm serious, Stiles," he let out a long sigh. After a moment of silence, he continued, "Look, when Derek offered me the bite, I...it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get my life back, you know? And I...I mean it sort of worked. But now I find myself...I don't know. Confused? Conflicted? I-I...this just isn't what I expected."
Stiles remained silent as he waited for Isaac to work through his thoughts.
"I figured the strength and the speed and the overall supernatural skills would, you know, give me what I was looking for. And it did, I guess, I just...didn't expect the...consequences."
"What do you mean?"
"Look, I just...I didn't want to feel quite so helpless anymore. But I...I always thought that I would want to feel powerful. And it was nice at first. But eventually, all of the messing with you and bullshit just...it started to hit a little close to home."
Ah.
Stiles understood.
He didn't need to say it, but Isaac knew he understood.
Suddenly Isaac was thrust with the opportunity to have someone at his feet like his father had done with him.
Luckily for Stiles, he did not relish the feeling at all.
"Isaac, look man, your pack has been a bunch of dicks to me the past couple of weeks. I won't deny that. But don't think I didn't notice that you didn't participate. You're not like him, man."
Isaac let out a bitter laugh, commenting, "No, but that's...that's what I came here to apologize about. It took me awhile, okay, but I'm sorry for not doing anything. Yeah, I didn't know that they were hurting you, but I've been there and I should have seen it. I should have stopped it before it got this far."
They were silent for a minute before Stiles said, "Apology accepted." He smirked and added, "Don't think this means I like you though. That's going to take a lot of ass kissing."
"Please, as if I could even get close to you to try to make amends. Scott is going to go full on watch dog 24/7."
Stiles groaned and leaned his head more deeply into the pillow, muttering, "Don't give him ideas, you know he's somewhere where he can hear all of this." He yawned deeply and commented, "Jesus, there is only so much werewolf guilt a guy can take in one day, I'm worn out."
"Yeah, I figured you were tired when you let me get through all of that without interrupting."
"Well, they're weaning me off drugs, my usually sharp comedic reflexes are stunted."
Isaac smiled and stood to let Stiles get some rest. At the door he paused, turning back to say, "By the way, for whatever this may be worth...Erica really didn't know she was hurting you. She's actually really broken up about it. I'm not saying you should forgive her, but...just know that no one was trying to hurt you on purpose, okay?" Isaac scratched the back of his head and added, "She wanted to come and apologize herself, but I told her that was a terrible idea."
Stiles snorted. Very terrible, especially given that Scott might rip her throat out before she got within 5 miles of the hospital.
"Well, and Derek told her to stay away. He's royally pissed off. I think he's worried Scott's going to try to implicate Erica."
"Derek's concern is, as always, very touching. And don't worry about Scott, he's pissed - like somehow more pissed than I am - but he won't report her. Tell Erica I'm going to be fine. And that I will accept tribute in the form of baked goods and sexual favors."
Isaac's smug smirk made a reappearance as he said, "Noted."
With that, Isaac was gone.
And Stiles was asleep in minutes, too tired to even hear his late-night visitor enter through the window.
I'm very interested in the relationship between Isaac and Stiles because to me they have the polar opposite father/son relationships, so I wanted to explore that a bit. I tried to work in some Stiles sass and snark but it felt a little out of place with the serious things Isaac was talking about. Fear not, I'm going to try to get Stiles back to his witty self in chapter 4.
Originally I was going to try to get into the Derek reaction that I wanted, but I decided to save it so I can really get into that and focus on it. Probably only one or two chapters left!