Notes: Thank you to everyone who's given this story a chance! I really appreciate the follows and comments and the general interest :) here's chapter 8, enjoy!
Chapter 8: Trust Your Senses
The first thing he hears is a sharp ringing. It's sort of confusing, or rather overwhelming because as his eyes slowly open he's assaulted with bright streams of sunlight. It's like his body is trying to take in too many senses at once and he winces, squeezing his eyes shut as his hand moves to cover his face. Pieces of what happened slowly stitch together like a frayed movie reel in the forefront of his mind. He remembers meeting the siblings with Allison, he remembers the woods and heat suffocating him, he remembers the firewood hitting his feet and someone's hands on his shoulders, Scott's voice vibrating against his eardrums—but the rest of it is black, lost in transition, hazy.
"Hey," He hears somewhere to his right, it's muffled. He feels something cool and damp press against his forehead in small circles. "How you feeling?"
Isaac lets out a slow breath, he still feels hot, his body is radiating heat like some sort of oversized furnace. His head still hurts and he manages to grunt out a noise that explains his pain in the best way that he can—but he does feel better; the ground beneath him isn't spinning and he doesn't feel like he wants to throw up anymore. He seems to have full feeling back in his hands and when he opens his eyes to look up at Scott, who is hovering worriedly over him, he concentrates on that long, steady heartbeat of his and the ringing in his ears is gone.
"What happened?" His voice sounds foreign; it's scratchy and stuck in his throat.
Scott swallows and shifts in his seat by his chest, which is when Isaac realizes he's spread out on one of the guest beds, tucked into the sheets with precision and care. "I don't know, you passed out." He frowns, playing with the washcloth that was on his forehead between his fingers. "I heard Allison scream and I ran outside, down the steps but your legs were already buckling under you…"
Isaac wants to sit up but his arms feel like jello when he tries and the movement alone sends off a few explosives in his temples. "Have you been here the whole time?"
The blush that covers Scott's cheeks is far too pretty to be real and Isaac decides he must be hallucinating now too. "You were out a few hours, I was worried. Everyone was in and out to check on you but…I stayed."
He's not surprised and Isaac gives Scott a small smile when he lifts the washcloth up to dip into a bowl on the nightstand before wringing it out, starting to dab his neck and forehead with it.
"I called my mom; she said it was probably heat exhaustion."
Isaac's eyebrows crinkle together. "Can werewolves even get heat exhaustion?" His heart warms to the fact that Scott called his mom because he was worried but he hates to think that he's now got Mama McCall worried about him too.
"You had some of the symptoms." Scott points out. "And we are still part human."
"You know, watching someone sleep is sort of creepy." Isaac smirks, winking at him to make Scott smile.
Those crinkles he loves show up at the corners of his eyes as he dips his head and laughs softly. "I had completely innocent intentions, promise."
He hums and turns his head into Scott's touch as the other wolf gently strokes the side of his face with the damp washcloth. He closes his eyes a moment and listens; he falls into the steady rhythm of Scott's breathing and picks up three distinctive heartbeats that are muffled by walls, outside, farther away. They're alone in the cabin and it causes an ache to just be closer to him to stir in his chest cavity, filling him up.
Isaac shifts again and moves to sit up, wincing all the while before finally resting his back against the headboard of the bed. He leans his head back and lets out a soft groan, gritting his teeth together at the severe pounding of his headache that worsens with movement. He glances down as Scott rests his hand on his wrist, grasping him softly before a black hue bleeds into his veins. He shakes his head as the pain starts to lessen and tries to remove the other's hand.
"No, don't." He rests his hand on top of Scott's, gently tugging and breaking the hold. The pain comes back but only slightly. "I'm okay," He assures him, squeezing his fingers. "It's just a headache."
Scott frowns but doesn't make an attempt to take more of his pain away again. "You hit your head pretty hard when you fell, you were bleeding." His eyebrows scrunch together and for a moment Isaac worries he tried to take too much from him because he looks hurt. "I hate seeing you like that." He whispers.
He leans forward and cups Scott's chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifts until those brown eyes are boring into his. He runs his thumb along his lower lip and smiles softly.
"I'm okay." He promises, kissing his upper lip, taking his time and bumping their noses together. "I'll heal; a little heat exhaustion isn't going to kill me."
Scott draws his lower lip into his mouth and bites, contemplating Isaac's words before setting the washcloth aside on the night table.
"Especially since I'll be spending the next few hours in a lake." Isaac grins at him and starts to get up but suddenly Scott is there and a hell of a lot closer than before, moving to straddle his waist and pin him back down into the bed.
"Oh, I'm afraid you have to stay in bed," Scott leans down and pushes his nose into Isaac's throat, breathing deeply as his hips swivel down. Isaac shivers and meets his hips with an upward movement, licking his lips. "Doctor's orders. I think you're still rather feverish."
"'I think' is such a technical diagnosis Doc," Isaac teases as Scott checks his temperature with his lips, planting a long kiss to his forehead. "In that case, I think less clothing is in order."
When they finally make it downstairs and outside Isaac still doesn't feel quite like himself but he's not sweating to death anymore at least. When Stiles asks them what took them so long to join the group, Scott replies that they got caught up watching some old reruns of some doctor show on TV. Stiles looks between the both of them and makes a gagging noise and Scott grins wolfishly.
0o0o0o0o
Isaac helps Stiles out with the campfire because at it turns out; Stiles should never be allowed near anything flammable. Once he nearly lights the deck on fire and almost, almost catches the corner of Isaac's sweater with a lit match, the wolf snaps the match and box out of the other's hands so fast that it nearly blows the flame out. He glares at him into submission, until Stiles hands are in front of his face in surrender and he's letting Isaac light the damn firewood with a resigned grumble of disapproval.
He pokes and prods at the flames with a fireplace iron poker and watches as some of the wood disintegrates into the fire and dances into the dark night sky. It's going on ten o'clock and the siblings Allison and he met should be showing up any time now. They briefly told the group about them when he and Scott made it outside that afternoon but Isaac had skipped over key parts that seemed important but was probably best that he left them out. Like the way Charlie was undressing Allison with his eyes or the weird look Ally had given him when Charlie noticed he wasn't feeling well.
Just when he thinks he's almost in the clear to go inside and help Lydia, Scott and Allison set up the items in the kitchen that they're going to slide onto sticks and (inevitably burn) eat, Stiles grabs him by the sleeve before he can even make it towards the door. Stiles, ironically, is very hard to get rid of once you've befriended him. He's decided that if Beacon Hills had a book club that doubled as a gossip society Stiles would be crowned president with a flower hat and cup of fucking tea.
"So how you feeling curly wolf?"
Isaac glares and swats him off his arm. "Don't call me that."
Stiles rolls his eyes. "Touchy. It's not my fault you don't own anything but grandma sweaters and jeans. Invest in some shorts, Lahey." A beat skips between them, like Stiles is testing the water before opening his mouth again. "But really, you feeling any better?"
He shrugs his shoulder and crosses his arms over his chest, glancing at the kitchen to make sure Scott isn't listening in before he replies. "Sort of."
Honestly, he thought he'd be feeling a hundred percent by now. But his body still aches and feels sort of sluggish and this headache just won't disappear completely, it's still settled like a heavy weight of lead in his temples, a cinder block rolling around in his skull cavity every time he moves.
"I thought werewolves couldn't get sick."
He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs his shoulders again because why the fuck does Stiles always have to talk to him like he's some sort of Werewolf Atlas. "Scott said that it's because we're still part human, I don't know."
A crinkle appears between Stiles' eyebrows and no, no, this isn't good. "That shouldn't mean that you can get sick. Scott had asthma and Erica had seizures but…those things didn't act up until the Kanima or…" He trails off and looks up at him.
"What?"
"Wolfsbane."
Isaac frowns, trying to back step through his day with Allison in the woods. The whole interaction is sort of fuzzy, especially when he remembers when he started to feel sick. All he can think about is that suffocating heat wrapping him up, like it had been inching into his chest cavity and burning holes into his lungs. The dizziness and numbness and nausea, the increased sweating and fainting…could that have been from something his wolf had been reacting too and not necessarily his human side?
"I don't remember seeing any purple flowers when I was picking up wood with Allison, I know what Wolfsbane looks like…I would have avoided it."
"Not if you didn't know what it looked like," Stiles points out and he can tell Isaac is about to hit him because he just said— "No, I mean, there are different types. You could have walked right past it and not realized it. And that would explain why you still feel like crap. If it was heat exhaustion, you would have just healed."
Isaac turns over the idea in his mind, he guesses that would explain how he got so sick and so fast, the fact that he was still weak and sort of lightheaded with a pounding headache even hours later. Stiles is right, if it was a human affliction, he would have healed already or at least felt significantly better. But Wolfsbane? Out here? He guesses he doesn't really know much about the plant…there could probably be a ton of different kinds and that's not even counting cross pollination and hybrids. It's…possible.
"I didn't hallucinate."
Stiles shrugs. "Maybe this type of Wolfsbane doesn't cause hallucinations. Different kind, different symptoms." He says simply, like he's some sort of supernatural botany expert.
Isaac sticks his hands in his pockets and glances towards the kitchen again, sees Allison lean into Scott's side as she laughs at something Lydia says.
"You have to tell Scott."
His head snaps back to look at Stiles. "What? No. Why, to worry him for no reason?" He asks, picking up the poker to shift some wood in the fire. "There's no point. I'm not dying and we're only here for another day and a half. If we come across a plant and start to feel off we'll know what it is."
Stiles isn't convinced. "But don't you think he should know—"
Isaac bites back a snarl. "Let it go, Stilinski."
The shorter huffs and he's not finished but Isaac has just about reached his point of patience. "I just think—"
Isaac doesn't really care what Stiles thinks and his eyes flash gold as a low growl escapes his throat, his wolf telling him to backoff. Stiles swallows and holds his hands up, taking two steps back before glaring at him. He sighs, settling down, his wolf enjoying the amount of fear seeping from Stiles and how it makes him distinctly smell like prey. He should feel guilty but Stiles should know that he can't just keep pressing people's buttons and not get an adverse reaction at some point.
"Fine," Stiles snaps when he's a good distance away (more like he's in a good position to run inside and find Scott…just in case). "You're so great at keeping secrets anyways."
It's a low blow aimed at his and Scott's relationship, one Isaac feels like a punch to his stomach, air forced out of his lungs. Stiles seems like he might regret the comment, can see it swirling in his eyes, but it disappears with a justifiable look taking its place a moment later. Of course, that moment is when the other three decide to step outside, hands carrying beers and trays filled with gram crackers, chocolate, marshmallows and other odds and ends. Scott takes a moment to glance between Stiles and Isaac, he can feel the tension, he knows it's seeping off both of them.
"Everything okay?"
He nods as Stiles shifts on his feet. "I can light a damn fire, you know." He aims at Scott, choosing to focus all of his irritation into that brief statement as he brushes past Isaac.
Isaac sighs and rubs the palms of his hands on his jeans, glancing at Scott before going over to help Allison with her tray of goodies. Why is it that he can't seem to just come out ahead? Just once.
0o0o00o0o
It's late when Charlie and Ally show up to their campfire at the back of Stiles' cabin but they are both welcome with open arms like the group is greeting old friends. He expects that out of Scott; the other wolf has an uncanny ability to make you feel like you belong. He's warm and inviting in such a way that he could probably make an electric blanket feel envious. Allison is bright and smiling like her life depends on it when she sees Charlie and all Isaac can do is shake his head and cross his arms over his chest because honestly; does she want the new boy in plaid or Scott because he can't figure her out. Lydia silently judges the two newcomers as Stiles animatedly chats with Ally as she sits down on one of the benches near the fire and for some reason he can't stop seeing Erica with that bright red lipstick and mischievous grin as the redhead ticks her eyes up and down Charlie's body like she's mapping out some distant land she wants to explore.
Isaac stays quiet and to himself as the two settle in, grabbing beers and sticks to stab marshmallows with. It's not that he wants to remain anti-social, though in group settings it's sort of what he's used to, but he's also trying to read the siblings and get a feel for them. He knows this is a bad habit, that he shouldn't instinctively mistrust and suspect everyone he meets (something he probably picked up from Derek) but he can't help it. An arrow in the woods, a noise outside while everyone is sleeping, these two showing up and the probability of Wolfsbane—he's never been great at math but how many times can he ignore the coincidence of two plus two equaling four.
The brother isn't too bad; he doesn't seem like a threat to either Isaac or his wolf. He smells like woods, dry leaves, laundry detergent and coffee. His hands seem rough like he works in nature a lot and the toned muscles of his body seem to go along with that theory. His clothes fit him to his form but in a flattering way and maybe if he wasn't so suspicious of the two of them he could actually admit that Charlie was attractive. Not that he's looking, or anything. While Ally's curls are unruly and wild down her back, Charlie makes sure to cut his hair close to his scalp so that the only curls are licking the nape of his neck. His smile is wide and his eyes are kind. His heartbeat is steady (unless Allison is around) and he can count the beats to assure himself that nothing is out of place.
But Ally…Ally seems different. And he can't put his finger on why. She's human, so it's not like he's scenting some sort of supernatural explanation. Her eyes are the color of her brother's, bottom of the ocean floor. She's just as tall as Allison but holds herself differently; while Allison stands like she feels tall Ally curls in on herself. She's broken, she's damaged, she's sad. Maybe he's just indentifying with that, a part of himself reaching out to her and maybe that's what he's not realizing. He's not sure. He wants to talk to her, see if he can maybe sort it out somehow but Stiles is drilling a hole into her eardrum about summers spent at the lake and how they've never seemed to run into one another. He glances up to see Scott coming in his direction and notices that Ally's eyes are on him, again, just like in the woods when he was with Allison earlier in the day.
It's weird, it's like she's trying to pry at his skin and peel it back like they're pages to turn to read him. He shivers as Scott sits next to him and the boy discreetly slides his hand up and under Isaac's shirt to feel the skin of his back. Ally's eyes are off of him, turning to Stiles to tune in and Lydia and Allison are talking to Charlie as they sip on their beers farther away from the fire.
"You going to roast a marshmallow?" Scott asks, removing his hand from the back of his shirt so he can grab two sticks. He hands one to Isaac without a reply and grins at him as he pushes marshmallows onto their awaiting sticks.
While the sticks hover over the fire, Scott munches on a marshmallow, the stickiness remaining on his lips. Isaac wants to lick it off, wants to taste Scott's mouth and skin and sugary residue left behind. He licks his own lips like it's some sort of distraction and looks into the fire.
"I've never had smores before." He admits and Scott's eyes widen like he's just committed some form of campfire treachery.
"Dude, they're so good." Scott licks his lips and turns his stick in the fire to golden brown the other side of his marshmallow.
Isaac hums and glances over at Charlie and Ally a moment before nudging Scott's shoulder gently with his own. He doesn't even have to look at him to know he has his attention; the shorter just slightly leans back into the touch.
"Can I ask you a wolf related question?" He asks and Scott's shoulders tense a moment before he nods.
There's some hesitation there and Isaac knows Scott is conflicted about this, when he asks him things he needs guidance on. Things he probably should be asking Derek, his alpha. "Sure."
He lowers his voice and he barely moves his mouths when he speaks, talking just above a whisper, just in case anyone is close enough that they can hear. Their heightened senses pick up on the sound waves without much effort.
"How do you know when to…trust your senses?" It seems like such a stupid question but honestly, he's having a fucking hard time.
There are so many things that pull at his body for attention, like he's seeing the world for the first time every time he tries to concentrate. Every scent seems important, every heightened noise sends his wolf on edge and every touch vibrates throughout his skin with a prickling sensation that hurts and is enjoyable at the same time. He's still so new at this sometimes, he doesn't know what to hone in on and what to let go. And when he's trying to track someone or something or, for instance, get a good read on the siblings he can't focus on what he needs to do.
Scott licks his lips again, he's thinking, trying to put what he wants to say into words that help explain. "Well, I guess it just comes down to instinct. You have to tap into your wolf; it's a much better tracker than you are. You have to let it take control but not enough to shift."
There's a balance there that Isaac understands but knows it's going to take a lot of trying and concentration to probably master.
"You have to trust it to tell you what's important." Isaac nods and smiles softly at Scott, pulling his stick from the fire to poke at his marshmallow. A moment passes before he asks what Isaac inevitably knew was coming. "Why?"
He swallows and meets Scott's eyes before guiding him with his line of vision to Ally and Charlie. "Are you getting weird vibes from either of them?"
Scott frowns. "Not really…are you?"
Isaac eats his marshmallow to buy himself some time and Scott pulls his own stick back from the fire and grabs at chocolate and gram crackers from the tray next to them.
"I don't know," He says honestly. "I keep seeing Ally…staring at me."
Scott glances up at Ally before letting out a laugh, which surprises Isaac. "I think what you're picking up on is less of a wolf thing and more of a human thing." Isaac's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before the other sighs. "Come on, Isaac. You know I'm not very good with biology. Pheromones, visual perception, audition…" He elbows him. "Oilfraction."
"I think you mean olfaction."
He huffs, muttering a 'whatever' before continuing. "She likes you, she's attracted to you." Isaac's eyes widen because no, wait, he hadn't even considered that. That can't be the thing he's been trying to figure out about her since he met her. "I think it's kind of cute really, that she thinks you're not with anyone."
'Not with anyone' sounds a hell of a lot like 'belongs to anyone' and he glances over at Scott because wow, okay, where did this possessiveness come from? But Scott smiles innocently, like he never said a damn thing and pops a marshmallow in his mouth before constructing a messy and sticky smores sandwich.
"You're just being paranoid." Scott assures him, breaking the sandwich in half and handing part of it to him. Their fingers brush as he takes it from him and Isaac bites into it and savors in the all too sweet sensation dancing on his tongue. "There's nothing else going on."
And the topic is closed as simple as that.
"I was thinking," He leans purposely close to grab for other marshmallows to put on their sticks. He smells like cologne and chocolate and now all Isaac can think about is pheromones and Christ, Scott smells good and how he wants to bury his nose in his neck and breathe. "Since we didn't get to spend a lot of time at the lake this afternoon, I say we go skinny dipping…you know, actually."
Isaac recalls the so called skinny dipping at the motel pool and knows exactly where Scott is going with this.
"Without clothes." He says bluntly and Scott grins.
"You'll be completely safe from the sun this time." And fuck, it's like someone is kneeling on his throat with that one. He should tell him, just open his mouth and tell him about the prospect of Wolfsbane—
but Isaac just smiles, bumps their shoulders together, agreeing, and the moment to say something is lost in the flames licking at their marshmallows.
0o0o0o0o
After an agonizingly long game of quarters the group eventually separates into singles and pairs as the night drags on. The only bright side was that they had company and Scott had consumed a pretty sizable amount of alcohol that would have had any human stumbling over their own feet…so he pretended. Isaac's always thought Scott would be a cuddly drunk; it fits perfectly with his touchy personality and the fact that he's so optimistic. So when he's 'tipsy' everything is awesome and it's like nothing bad in the world can touch him—which is fine with Scott because he's rather busy touching everyone else anyways. He kisses Allison's cheek and plays with Lydia's hair, he smacks Stiles' ass once as a congratulatory for an awesome round of quarters and then proceeds to hang on Isaac for the rest of the game.
And he is so not complaining.
It's not too over the top and while Scott mumbles that Isaac is tall every so often, Charlie and Ally seem to be having a great time, happiness is rolling off of their pores in waves and for some reason that calms him, it makes him feel noticeably better. Stiles stops calling him sour wolf 2.0 and he kicks ass in a round of quarters. All's well that ends well…that is, until he feels eyes on him again.
And this time they aren't Ally's.
They belong to Allison and she's watching closely as Scott mutters in his ear, still playing drunk for Charlie and Ally's sake but it's enough of something that Allison walks over to them and suggests (demands) that Scott get some water.
Allison nearly manhandles him through the back door to the kitchen as Isaac offers to help Ally with her technique during another round of quarters—she smells like beer, makeup foundation and roses. He tries to focus his hearing to inside the cabin but the sound of a sink being turned on drowns Allison and Scott out.
0o0o0o0o0o
When he excuses himself to the bathroom Ally looks disappointed but he winks at her and guides her hand in a precise way that easily lands a quarter in a cup. She reminds him of someone when she smiles, maybe the way Erica used to before she was turned. It's sweet and small and shown to him like a secret that's purposely hidden away.
He manages to sneak up on Scott and Allison as he hides behind the doorframe that leads to the kitchen. He made sure to come through the front door slow and as quiet as he could; while Allison might not be a werewolf she's annoyingly perceptive. And the last thing he wants is for her to catch him trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. He knows he shouldn't but he can't not and so he finds himself with his back is pressed against a far wall as he listens. They're already knee deep in an argument and because he had taken his time to not get caught while working his way in here he had obviously missed the gentler beginnings of this conversation.
But as it turns out he doesn't need to do much guess work to figure out what he's missed.
"All I was trying to say was that I was worried about you and Isaac."
"And you still can't give me a good reason why." Scott's voice is strained, like he's trying to keep his frustration in check or keep his voice quiet so Isaac doesn't overhear, he's not sure.
Allison sounds like she's digging her fingers into her hair and he can almost make out the slight swooping motion of her locks landing on her shoulders. "Ever since Derek kicked him out and he started living with you, it's like…you hung the damn moon. The way he follows you around and looks after you, I feel like he's adopted you as his new alpha or something."
Isaac knows the alpha topic is such a sensitive matter to bring up because that's the last thing Scott ever wanted; to be an alpha of his own pack or be in a pack in general. It's never even crossed his mind that he's really traded in an alpha for another, unconsciously, since he made the move into the McCall household. He guesses it makes a lot of sense, Isaac smells like Scott and Scott smells like home, like pack. He looks up to him, he trusts him, he'd probably do anything he asked with a minimal amount of hesitation if Scott pressed him, and it's just—it's so much more than attraction or admiration.
"And would that really be the worst thing?" Scott asks and his question surprises Isaac a little. "He hurled a glass at his head before throwing him out and not to mention, he's not the best werewolf obi wan out there. He left Isaac basically unprepared to deal with his wolf."
He wants to lean into the sense of pride that's swirling in his chest at Scott sticking up for him but at the same time he hates how weak and dependent it makes him sound.
"Just because you have a father doesn't make them your dad and just because you have the title of an alpha doesn't mean you're a good one."
Isaac looks at the floor as the analogy hits home more than he would have liked. He can hear Allison's breath leave her chest in aggravated puffs. "That's what I mean. Isaac can be unpredictable, he wolfed out in Stiles' car and nearly destroyed the seat—" And wow, Isaac is never going to live that down it seems.
Scott speaks over her. "He's claustrophobic, Allison, and with good reason!"
"He's unpredictable and irrational," Allison argues, trying to make her point before both of their voices carry through the plaster and wood to the back deck. "Not to mention that he can be violent without thinking it through first. He nearly attacked Ally yesterday," Isaac feels a solid weight settle on his chest, a little betrayed by the accusation. Does she seriously not remember that before this quaint little meet and greet that Ally had had a gun pointed at her? "What if he accidently goes after your mom? He could hurt her."
He hears Scott's heartbeat accelerate; he doesn't even acknowledge the comment about Ally but instead goes for the jugular of Allison's statement. "Isaac would never hurt my mom."
Isaac swallows and shifts gently, looking down at his feet. Scott has to know that he would never hurt his mom, not after…not after everything she's done for him. The fact that she took him in and offered a roof over his head, a place where he feels safe and loved and wanted, that she never asked any questions other than if he liked lasagna and if he finished his homework before bed. He would never do anything to hurt Mrs. McCall…she reminds him so much of his own mother sometimes, he'd never jeopardize that….at least, not intentionally. And he thinks, maybe, that's where Allison is going with this. He can be irrational and quick to judge, he can let his wolf slip through his fingers and lose himself in primal sensations that feel better than anything he's ever felt.
But Scott…but Scott's always there and that grounds him and that has to mean something, right?
Allison's voice breaks his thoughts, it's quiet and resigned. "I don't trust him."
"I thought you and Isaac were okay with one another now." He sighs, his voice muffled like he's pinching the bridge of his nose. Isaac's heart swells for him, he sounds tired, he sounds so incredibly tired.
"We are but…that doesn't mean I still don't like to keep my eye on him. He hasn't earned my trust."
"Well he's earned mine." Scott snaps, like the conversation is over and it sounds like he more than wants it to be. Isaac hears the echo of his feet against the tile like he's getting ready to walk out of the room but Allison is rebutting quicker than he can get away.
"How can you be so quick to forget everything he's done? He tried to kill Lydia, he's attacked you—"
There are not many things Isaac has grown to regret but that is definitely one of them. He doesn't want to be anywhere near this conversation anymore, he shouldn't have decided to eavesdrop in the first place. It for one reason or another is starting to feel like a warped fight that he's heard between his parents before his mother passed away. He's not sure if Scott is even aware of his presence as he starts to move down the hallway towards the living room; his heartbeat and breathing have steadily decreased since the last time he's really concentrated. If Scott's given any indication that he knows, Isaac can't pick up on it. But at this point he's willing to bet that that Wolfsbane has probably fucked with his heightened senses a little bit.
"You're one to talk," Scott counters, getting louder again. It seems he's given up on whether or not he cares if Isaac hears them. "I seem to remember you attacking me and Isaac not too long ago. Am I just supposed to not trust you anymore either?"
Isaac waits for her to tell him that that's different even though Isaac knows damn well that it's not but the response doesn't come and Scott has apparently made his point.
"Look," Scott sighs, running a hand through his hair (Isaac knows because that's one of his tell signs when he's upset). "When I was bit I had to figure everything out pretty much on my own. I don't want that for Isaac. He doesn't…he doesn't have anyone but me."
He hesitates by the front door, his hand on the knob. He knows Scott's intentions are nothing but pure, that all he wants is to make sure that he isn't alone, that he has someone to depend on—and maybe it's the irritation in his voice, or perhaps the fact that he sounds so tired, but Isaac can't help but feel like he's some sort of obligation with that admission to Allison.
And even though it's ridiculous, it hurts a lot more than he can put into words. The kind of hurt that burrows down and etches itself into bone. That stays with you. He knows that hurt and he understands it more than he would like to.
"Isaac isn't going anywhere and that's just how it's going to be. Whether you like it or not."
Neither is quick to talk about how that sounds a lot like a threat and he's out the door and down the steps before Allison even opens her mouth to form a semblance of a reply.
