Notes: Hope you enjoy :) Thank you so much for taking the time to read :3 I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave me any comments or even if it's just to say if you had a favorite part! I have a tumblr (blaineslahey) stop by and say hello….or talk to me about Scisaac I mean honestly, like I need an excuse to talk about them ;)

Chapter 5: Sanguine

It's late when Scott and Allison get back; the sun has dipped past the horizon and the distinct sound of crickets buzz against his eardrums along with bugs zapping when they flitter against the light outside the front door. They've just finished up dinner; Stiles made homemade pizza (haphazardly, Isaac might add, at least it was distracting to try and watch him put something together that was actually edible) and left a few slices warming in the oven for the pair walking in. Isaac glances up as Scott comes into the kitchen, he smells like lake water, sweat and Allison and the two of them are laughing over something that obviously had happened on their walk.

"Scott told me you can cook." Stiles says and Isaac turns to look at him as he sits at the kitchen table while Scott and Allison set up their pizza from the oven on the island near the stove.

He's not sure whether he's genuinely interested or if he's trying to distract him. "Are you trying to persuade me into making food the entire time we're here?" He cocks his head to the side and nearly smiles. "My mom taught me a few things, I'm not…I'm not that good."

"He's amazing." Scott speaks up from behind him, pizza in his mouth, moving to sit down next to Isaac. "He puts my mother's eggs to shame."

"I love breakfast food." Allison adds as she sits down on the other side of Isaac; like the universe is playing some sort of cosmic joke on him.

"You better not let your mom hear that," Isaac smiles softly, can't help the slight teasing in his voice. "She'll kick me to the curb."

Scott snorts, chomps on his crust in a way that encourages Stiles to make a face. His ankle slides against Isaac's shin, sort of tangling their legs but it's discreet enough that if anyone saw they wouldn't think much of it.

"You do all the cleaning in the house, she's not letting you go any time soon," Scott smirks. "Trust me."

That, along with not unpacking his things and cooking, is just one of his habits. His father had liked a well organized house; the cleaner things were the less likely that Isaac spent the night in the freezer. He smiles softly at Scott's comment and shakes his head, looking down at the cup of coffee he's nursing and licks his lips. He figures he might as well answer Stiles' comment since he's the whole reason this conversation started.

"I can cook a few times, if you want. Least I can do for ruining the upholstery of your jeep."

Stiles makes a scoffing noise. "Like that'll make up for the dam—" Scott kicks him swiftly under the table and the other makes a strangled noise. "Fine, fine. Alright. Good, whatever."

When Allison finishes up her pizza she brushes her fingers on a napkin and wipes her mouth. "We should watch a movie or something." She suggests.

Isaac's fingers grip the outside of his mug and he can hear the ceramic buckling under his unintentional grasp. He knows exactly why she wants to watch a movie (probably a cheesy horror film) so she can cuddle up next to Scott on the couch. A perfect excuse to bury her face in his neck under the pretense of the nice walk they had and their ever budding friendship.

Color him not interested.

"That's a good idea," Scott replies, "But Isaac and I are going to go for a run first. You can start the movie without us, though."

He turns his head to look at him, sort of confused but only showing it in his eyes. Scott smiles and lifts his eyebrows, nodding his head towards the woods that are just behind the back door at the end of the kitchen.

"Wolf stuff." He says, like it's as simple as that.

And Isaac grins, understanding. "Wolf stuff." He repeats.

0o0o0o0o

Running transformed is cathartic in a way that he can't quite put into words. Before he was turned, there was always this battle going on inside his body, inside his head. A constant struggle between remaining silent, weak (because his father hadn't always been that way and there was a part of him, no matter how deep down that still loved him) and taking control, putting his foot down and standing up for himself because no, no one deserved what he had to go through.

Surprisingly enough that war in himself doesn't disappear with the bite, it just warps into something different, the players have changed in a way and he's constantly trying to balance his human side (the weak and timid, more rational) and his wolf (the side that's animalistic, primal urges and unreasonably rash). When he transforms and runs, zipping past trees and fallen trunks, his claws digging into fresh earth and the moon reflecting against his gold eyes, the battle lines disappear. He feels free.

He feels powerful.

And in moments where he thinks he might lose himself completely he thinks about his father, about thunderstorms and Scott and that warm feeling in his chest blossoms outward, grounds him. He understands why he can't get lost in the blurring of lines, why he needs an anchor to his human side, even though sometimes he just wants to spiral into the darkness of his nature and disappear completely in it.

He runs. The woods keep him company because he's lost Scott long ago, though through the connectivity of their relationship, of their pack mentality, he can sense him somehow. He can pick up on his heartbeat thrashing in his chest as he runs, can almost smell him, can almost pinpoint him. Isaac doesn't try, however, he just runs. The air is cool against his face; he can smell everything, the dampness of the earth, the woodsy pine of the trees, animals that are dead and decaying, things that are still alive with their humming hearts and quickened breathing. He can hear for miles, all the way back to the cabin where Stiles is making Lydia and Allison laugh, can hear fish gliding through the darkness of the lake and owls hooting their haunting melody into the night.

Isaac stops a moment, doesn't need to catch his breath but is sure he hears something; branches breaking on the ground and disturbing birds hidden in trees. He jerks his head to the right and waits—but nothing happens.

Until something tackles him to the ground from his left.

The force and surprise shifts him out of his wolf form, his human eyes blinking up at Scott who is straddling his waist and grinning at him. He's transformed back too but his eyes are still gold, alluring in a way that makes Isaac's teeth grind together.

"Gotcha." He smirks and it's almost ironic because that's just what Scott does, jumps into his life when he least expects it and knocks him onto his ass. He changes everything.

"I let you do that." Isaac insists, not willing to admit that he got the jump on him.

Scott just laughs until the taller hooks his leg around his waist and pushes, toppling him over and changing their position so he's straddling his thighs now. Isaac leans down and pins his wrists to the dirt, leaning over him as he kisses his upper lip. Scott shimmies his hips down and Isaac's breathing gets caught in his throat as something half hard connects with his cock…and it seems that's all the distraction Scott needs because he snaps his thighs up and flips Isaac over his head and onto his back with a thud.

Scott snorts. "I suppose you let me do that too."

He groans, trying to catch his breath which was effectively knocked out of him. "Shut up."

Scott stands and brushes his jeans off, reaching out a hand to help Isaac up off the ground. "Come on, I want to show you something." He doesn't let go of Scott's hand as they start walking and the shorter interlaces their fingers effortlessly.

There are a few moments of silence between them before Isaac clears his throat, "How was your walk with Allison?"

"Knew it was coming." Scott mumbles but there's at least a hint of a smile to his lips.

For some reason that makes him angry, he knows that he and Scott aren't exactly anything but he has the right to question it, doesn't he? Even if they were just friends that's something he could have asked but the way Scott brushes the question off with a joking tone and a smile makes him feel sort of foolish, like he shouldn't be asking or at least feel ridiculous because he asked.

"You know," Isaac stops and it forces Scott to stop too since they're holding hands. "You'd be the exact same way if I was here with my ex-girlfriend."

Scott opens and closes his mouth and then swallows, because he would be. Isaac knows he would be. He doesn't need to be in a relationship with Scott to know that he's the protective type, that he's the slightest bit possessive of the people he loves.

"You had a girlfriend before?" Scott asks; he's not surprised when Isaac nods his head—he can believe that someone like Isaac has been in a relationship before even though he's never talked about it.

He shifts on his feet and shrugs his one shoulder. "For a little, freshman year." He bites his lower lip. "She was in my history class but she moved away." He rubs the back of his neck and avoids Scott's gaze. "Besides, it's not like…with my father I had a lot of time set aside for relationships anyways."

"Did you love her?"

He's not trying to pry, he can tell by the tone of his voice that he's leading up to something and it's not how Isaac dealt with his past relationship.

Isaac meets his eyes, the color a stone blue-gray. "No," He shakes his head, loved the idea of her more than anything else. "No I didn't."

Scott licks his lips and nods. "Well I loved Allison. I still do just…it's something that's not going to go away." He takes a step forward and hooks his finger under Isaac's chin so he can't look away. "But that doesn't mean I'm not invested in figuring out what this is. And I'd tell you if something changed."

Isaac swallows, understands what he's alluding to, that it all boils down to one thing.

"You trust me, don't you?" Scott's eyes are wide; pools of concern and hope and if he doesn't stop looking into them he's going to fall hard and incredibly fast.

He doesn't trust anyone but Scott. "I trust you." He says, clears his throat and pulls his chin away from Scott's hand before nodding.

Promises, unspoken words, concerns and worries float in the air between their bodies, but neither tries to discuss them. They soak in the silence and continue walking, Scott's thumb rubbing along his wrist every so often as they step over fallen trees and rocks. Isaac thinks it's probably better that way even though that gray area just keeps getting more pronounced.

They're about halfway back to the cabin when they stop at a dip in the earth near two trees, there's a nature-made rock formation that overlooks a small hill. As they get closer to it, Isaac thinks it sort of looks like a cave, it smells dank and like wet earth and pollen. He scrunches his nose and rubs at it with the back of his wrist. Scott smirks softly as he looks over at him and tugs his hand to bring them closer, crouching down to inch forward so that they're under the rocks. He's surprised that both of their bodies manage to fit into the space, the cave-like structure isn't very deep and the moon manages to illuminate the grass and fallen leaves around them to the point where it seems like the ground is glowing.

"My dad and I used to come here when we visited," Scott tells Isaac, sitting against the wall of rock.

He watches with amusement as Isaac's long and lanky body tries to adjust comfortably enough to sit across from him. Isaac has to duck his head a little so that it doesn't hit the top of the rocks but dirt still manages to dust his curls. Scott smirks, reaching his other hand that's not holding Isaac's to brush it out and Isaac sneezes into his elbow, blinking at Scott.

Scott smiles warmly at him and laughs awkwardly. "Sorry, I uh, guess it seemed a lot bigger when I was younger."

Isaac shakes his head, trying to make himself seem as relaxed as possible because he's glad Scott wanted to show him this, wanted to share something of himself with him. Something that's personal and close to his heart.

"It's okay." He assures him, squeezes his hand so he knows he can continue.

"We'd sneak out when everyone was asleep and sit here…my dad would call it the batcave." He laughs and shakes his head, looking down at his hands. "Batman was my favorite cartoon."

Bruce Wayne; a charming man who isn't who he seems to be on the surface, his past touched by darkness, a defender of the people and the helpless, a symbol of hope—yeah, Batman seems appropriate for him to be Scott's favorite.

Scott swallows, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as his smile fades a little. Isaac understands the battle going on behind his expression, understands he wants to be happy about a memory that means so much to him but he's upset that that recollection is merely that: a memory. The father he knew is gone and they'll never have moments like that again.

Scott clears his throat and looks up at the sky as he leans out of the structure. "You can see the stars from here and we'd just…you know, count them or make up a bunch of names, pretend to see the bat signal in the sky."

He runs his thumb over Scott's knuckle and leans forward to press a kiss to the boy's temple, the shorter closing his eyes at the sensation. Scott turns his head and Isaac can feel his breath skitter across his lips as their foreheads rest together. He kisses him gently, trying to comfort him the best way he can. Scott appreciates it, he responds and eventually pulls back, brushing his lips over the bridge of Isaac's nose before leaning back against the rock again.

Scott sighs. "I just don't understand why he left; my mom and I never really talk about it. She says she's over it, over him but…I can tell how it's still sort of painful for her." He licks his lips and runs a hand over his forehead. "Sometimes I think it's because he wasn't happy."

Isaac finds that hard to believe; he's only been in the McCall household for a few long weeks now and after day two he was envious of Scott's family, regardless that he only had a mother. The warmth and love that the two of them damn near glow with is something he's been craving for since his mom died. With Scott and Mrs. McCall, it's easy to be happy. He doesn't have to search for it; it's not some sort of weighted effort like before. It just comes naturally.

He hates that Scott doesn't know about his father's true intentions, that he's left with his mind wandering on thoughts too ridiculous to be true. That Scott thinks his father left because he wasn't happy, that maybe it's somehow his fault. It's heartbreaking, he hates it, it fills him up inside and leaves him with that hopeless feeling again.

"Its hard thinking that I wasn't…good enough for him to stay, you know?" Scott chokes out and Isaac has had enough, he squeezes his hand hard and pulls him forward a little, shaking his head insistently.

"No," He says, firmly.

He cups Scott's face and runs his thumb along his cheekbone, along a non-existent tear track that he's trying to take away. His veins bleed black and Scott gasps softly as a certain amount of pain is lifted off of his heart, flows directly into Isaac's skin. It's for a fraction of a second, but it's enough, and Scott breathes easier than before.

Isaac swallows, his gaze looking down at his lips before connecting their eyes again. "Don't ever think that." His voice is soft, like the dark is muting it somehow.

But Scott feels better, he can tell just by the brightness returning to his eyes and the small smile lines shifting under Isaac's palm on his face.

"You didn't have to do that." Scott breathes, glancing at Isaac's hand as settles back down on his lap between them.

It's not like Scott hasn't done the same thing to him even though he thinks Isaac hasn't noticed. When he wakes up in the middle of the night from a horrific nightmare and can't get back to sleep because he's shaking so hard. Scott's arms are around him, trying to calm him down, his open palm sliding up the sweat drenched t-shirt on his back so there's skin to skin contact. He knows he's done it before, remembers how it feels when Scott takes a little bit of his pain away, how his anguish disappears, how his breathing slows, how his chest aches just a little bit less. Neither of them has ever said anything about it, probably because Scott doesn't want Isaac to know and Isaac just lets it go because he feels calm and good and he can breathe again.

So Isaac just shakes his head and gives him a soft smile. "Yes I did."

0o0o0o0o0o

They take their time getting back to the cabin, getting lost on purpose, double backing their steps and walking in circles so that they have more time with one another, the darkness of the night and the moon the only things keeping them company. They fill the silence between them by talking about random things; Isaac asks about summers spent here (after he thanks him for showing him the 'batcave', the coined nickname making Scott grin) and Scott tries to tread lightly on asking if Isaac's ever been on vacation with his family before his mom and brother died and the dad he loved disappeared. Scott talks about how his dad taught him how to fish and Isaac says no, he's never been anywhere outside of Beacon Hills, and that vacations consisted of visiting his grandparents or extensive nights filled with popcorn, blankets and scary stories in tents out in his backyard.

"Think anyone will notice if we sneak in through the back and go upstairs? I'm not in the mood for a movie." Scott smiles at Isaac as he turns around, walks backwards slowly so he can look at him as Isaac replies.

He sighs; looks through the trees as they reach the clearing into the backyard of the cabin, the lights are dim. He can hear the TV playing and three strong heartbeats gently tha-thumping within the walls.

"I think Stiles would call us on it." He squeezes Scott's hand. "But…we could say we have to take showers. I mean, I'd believe it, you smell gross."

Scott scoffs and stops in his tracks, smacking the other's shoulder. "You don't exactly smell like roses either, Lahey."

"Well, with an attitude like that you're going to be showering alone." Isaac smirks, earning a grin from Scott as the shorter takes a step forward and leans up a little on his toes.

Isaac leans down and wraps his arms around Scott's waist, his fingers pressing his lower back and dipping to graze the swell of his ass.

"Showering together doesn't sound like we'd be getting any cleaner." Scott points out, his lips brushing Isaac's as he speaks.

"Doesn't sound like you'd complain about it." He whispers, basically breathes against Scott's mouth before kissing him lightly.

A sharp noise cuts through the air and makes Scott hesitate slightly as they kiss. He can hear it too but it sounds far away, only heightened by their werewolf hearing. It doesn't sound threatening, like an animal or something stepping on leaves and grass and breaking twigs.

"Did you hear that?" Scott asks as he pulls back, eyes focused into the woods. He starts to walk over to the gathering of trees and bushes, using his nose and other senses to try and explain the sound.

Isaac follows close behind, figures if Scott is determined to track down the noise then he should at least control his dick in his pants to help. This cabin is really starting to turn into 'How to Cockblock Isaac Lahey: A guide'. First Allison and now this phantom noise, couldn't they just catch a break?

Scott dips into the woods again, shoulders tense and body alert like something might pop out at them. Then he sees something, wedged into the trunk of a tree about a few feet away from where they had been standing. An arrow.

Ice runs through Isaac's veins as he runs behind Scott to get to the tree, the other werewolf yanking it out of the bark. The arrow comes out easily, which means that it either wasn't shot close range or that it's been encased there for a long amount of time, the weather loosening its hold in the wood. He swallows and glances around, his muscles and bones attentive and prepared now, geared for an attack because it's just what he's used to.

"You don't think it's…" He looks over at Scott, the question hanging in the air.

Scott is studying the arrow, his eyebrows crinkling together as his fingers run along the body of it. He's not howling in pain so it's not doused with wolfsbane and he hates how his mind instantly has to go there.

The shorter shakes his head, looks up at him. "I think…" He trails off a moment, looks around at the area surrounding them and then lets out a long breath. "I think we're too paranoid."

That isn't the response he is really expecting to come out of him. Isaac shifts and takes the arrow from his fingers and holds it in his palms like that'll somehow spark some sort of answer.

"After everything we've been through I think we jump to conclusions that it's bad news right away."

Isaac gives him a skeptical look. "That's because it usually is bad news." He deadpans.

"I'm just trying to be…sanguine."

He lifts his eyes to look at Scott who is smiling cheekily at him, obviously proud. Isaac snorts and shakes his head. "SAT word of the day?"

Scott just grins and Isaac is glad that he's being a little bit cocky about it; cockiness smells a lot like arousal and happiness mixed together. It's pungent and it's probably weird that he thinks so, but it sort of smells good on Scott. It makes him want to grab him and kiss him hard and have his hands explore the contours of his body. It's not Isaac's fault that it's absolutely ridiculous and sort of cute how happy Scott can get when he manages to use a SAT word correctly in a sentence.

"I'm just saying," There's still a hint of a smile on Scott's face. "That it's probably just a hunter's arrow. You know a…normal, run of the mill, hunts bunnies and bambi…hunter."

Isaac wants to believe that's true, wants more than anything to think that this arrow is just a product of some hunter, one that's not after anything supernatural, wants to believe that they actually do have some sort of reprieve out here at this cabin. That for just three days they don't have to think about an alpha pack or the high percentage of dying, that the weight of the world can just ease off of Scott's shoulders and that Isaac can help with that.

But that's a hell of a lot of luck and if Isaac's learned anything it's that his life has never exactly been in large supply of that. Though he guesses living with the McCall's and doing…whatever it is that he's doing with Scott can be the exception.

He looks up at Scott to tell him that he's not so sure and that maybe they should tell the others or try to research the area and the arrow, just to be cautious but…the look in the other's eyes is so…hopeful and he just, he can't seem to get the words out from underneath his tongue, he can't be the one to crush that.

So he nods and tosses the arrow aside, brushing his hands off on his jeans. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Scott mimics his nod while taking his hand, squeezing reassuringly as they walk back to the cabin. It looks like he has no other choice but to remain sanguine.