Notes: Three more chapters after this! Enjoy :) Thank you for reading!
Chapter 10: Realizations
He passes out at some point but he's not sure for how long. All he knows is that when he opens his eyes again the arrows are still sticking out of his body and his blood is warm and sticky against his skin and the fabric of his clothes. He's angled into the corner of the couch and he tries not to move as he glances up at the group surrounding him, they're all far too close because the air feels like it's suffocating his windpipe. Allison and Lydia are seated in the loveseat across from him while Stiles hovers near the end of the couch, Scott is sitting right against the side of his chest, hands tugging gently at his shirt to try and remove it from his body so he can get a good look at the arrows.
"Wait, Scott, don't touch them." Stiles hands shoots out and grabs gently at Scott's forearm.
Scott looks up in confusion as Isaac shifts back into the couch, the pain nearly taking his breath away at every brief movement. "What? Why?"
Isaac notices his hands are shaking and tilts his head up at Stiles whose eyes are already on him. He feebly shakes his head. "No wolfsbane." He'd feel the effects already if there was any present.
Scott's eyes widen and his attention snaps to Stiles. "Wolfsbane? Why would the arrows be dipped in wolfsbane?"
Stiles rubs the back of his neck and makes a pointed look towards Isaac but no, he's really not in the sharing caring kind of mood…seeing as how he still has two arrows sticking out out of his body.
"When Isaac came back sick from the woods we thought it might be something other than heat exhaustion."
"Wolfsbane." Scott whispers and Isaac can see him connecting the symptom dots in his head.
"And you knew?" Allison's accusatory voice pierces his ears; her eyes are wide on Isaac's form. "Don't you think that's something you should have told us?"
"We didn't want to alarm anyone," Stiles defends, which is surprising coming from him since he's the one who wanted Isaac to tell Scott in the first placd. "We weren't sure if it was or not…but uh, arrows shot at Isaac seems a hell of a lot like a confirmation. I think someone is targeting him."
"The point is," Isaac wheezes out as he sits up straighter on the couch, tired of this debate of whether or not they have a serious problem on their hands. "Is that these don't have any wolfsbane on them so can we please get them out of me?"
Scott instructs Stiles to run into the kitchen and get him scissors and to find a first aid kit. Even though the wound should heal when the arrow is pulled out the other wolf doesn't seem to want to take any chances. When he comes back into the room, everyone is silent as Scott goes to work, cutting Isaac's shirt off in one fluid motion. He helps him sit up as straight as he can and Isaac's one hand shoots to the arrow sticking out of his midsection, holding it in place as it tries to jostle with his movement.
Scott kneels on the floor, facing him, eyes wide and concerned. Isaac almost wants to look away, can't take the look on his face no more than the pain circulating throughout his torso. His body is trying to heal around the arrows, which is going to make pulling them out extremely painful. He pants softly as Scott's hands encloses around the one holding the arrow near his stomach and squeezes gently.
"Let me see." He says softly, pulling his hand away, triggering Isaac to wince and grit his teeth.
Scott squeezes the arrow in his fist and is about to pull it out, Isaac nodding to give him permission to just do it. But when he starts to tug the motion isn't fluid and his whole body reacts by arching as he howls in pain. And Scott…Scott hesitates, he freezes, eyes wide with uncertainty.
It's then Isaac realizes how bad the other's hands are shaking, his skin soaked in his blood. He catches his scent, the pure fear that's mixing with tones that are distinctly Scott nearly chokes his throat.
Stiles makes a gagging noise and says something that sounds like 'Oh God, wow, yeah those are really in there' as he turns away from the couch and Allison gets up from the loveseat to kneel next to Scott.
Isaac coughs and blood spurts from his lips, leaking down his chin. The arrows can't stay where they are; his body is trying too hard to heal itself time after time after time as the spears poke and prod his muscles and organs open. Allison places her hand on Scott's, her eyes analyzing his face. He sees it then, in her eyes, she doesn't need werewolf senses to understand what's going on. That this goes deeper than friendship or pack. The realization makes her smell different…or maybe his senses are just going haywire with the combination of pain and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"Scott, you can do this," She says gently, lifting his hand to put it around the arrow again. "Swift and smooth. Like pulling off a Bandaid." She instructs, nodding her head. "Isaac needs you."
That last part is whispered but Scott seems to hear it because he nods and straightens his back. He licks his lips and dips his face into his own shoulder since his hands are bloodied. "I need you to hold his shoulders, Stiles hold his legs."
Stiles moans and complains with a question of why can't Lydia do something like this but Scott growls and his eyes flash yellow at him…which is all Stiles needs in terms of motivation. They get into their positions and wait, squeezing Isaac's body with as much force as they can manage as Scott pulls the arrows out. It's quick but that doesn't make it any less painful and Isaac tries to contain his protests of pain because the last thing he wants to do is worry Scott any more than he already has. The arrows pierce the healed flesh all over again as they're pulled out, like someone shot them from inside his body. A few whimpers leave his lips as his lungs heave to breathe, Allison's and Stiles' hands loosening their hold as the worst part is over.
Scott reaches for Isaac's hands as the taller tries to control his breathing, their fingers lacing together even though their digits are slick with blood.
Stiles is holding his chest as he shakes his head. "Wow, that was really painful…for me, I mean…" Everyone slowly looks over at him and he raises his eyebrows. "I'm alright, thanks for asking."
Lydia stands from the loveseat and shakes her head, glancing over at Scott and Isaac's conjoined hands with a satisfied look on her face. "I knew it, I'm never wrong."
Allison sort of looks like she's about to be sick and stands, picking up the arrows. "I'm going to just…take these in the kitchen."
Scott tears his gaze from Isaac to look at the other three. "Someone should make sure all the doors and windows are locked…"
"Yeah, I'm sure whoever did this isn't just going to be satisfied with two arrows." Stiles agrees, grabbing Lydia's hand to tug her away from the couch to check on other rooms as Allison disappears into the kitchen.
There's a silence blanketing between them as they're left alone and after a moment Scott pulls back, letting go of Isaac's hands to open up the first aid kit. He pulls open a package of gauze with his teeth and untwists the cap of rubbing alcohol, pouring a bit onto the cotton ball like material. Isaac's wounds have long since closed since the arrows were removed but his skin is still caked with blood.
"Are you okay?" Isaac finally asks as Scott begins to wipe the blood from his stomach and chest. He takes one of the gauze pads himself, wets it with alcohol, and takes most of the red sticky substance off his hands and fingers.
Scott laughs softly but it's quiet and mostly air leaving his nose. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I'm not the one who had two arrows shot into me."
"I'm fine…" He looks down at the other's hands on his torso. "I'm all healed up but your hands are still shaking." He settles his own on Scott's, stilling them as best as he can.
Scott swallows audibly, closing his eyes as he leans forward to rest his forehead against Isaac's shoulder. He can tell he's breathing in his scent, slow and steady, to calm his own heartbeat and he detangles one of his hands from Scott's to run his hand through the other's hair.
When he pulls back his eyes are troubled and Isaac can only guess it's one of two things. "Are you upset that people found out before you were ready?"
Scott shakes his head and wipes the blood off his hands. "No, it's not that." Isaac swallows; the second thing he has in mind as to what's wrong isn't any less worrisome. "That was…exactly what I was worried about."
Isaac sits up a little, suddenly feeling far too naked for this conversation. He watches as Scott frantically puts things back into the first aid box.
"You can't prevent me from getting hurt." This is what was at the basis of their last fight, Scott's goddamn priorities. Why is it so hard for him to understand that he can't protect everyone?
"What if something like that happens when we're up against the Darach or the alpha pack?" He snaps, the tone causing Isaac to recoil slightly. "I couldn't even think straight when you were hurt Isaac. I hesitated. If I have people depending on me to lead I can't take the chance that I might hesitate like that."
"So what? Distancing yourself from me is going to help with that?" Even if they aren't together, pulling away doesn't translate into Scott not caring about him anymore. He can still get hurt, he can still die; that factor doesn't change.
"I don't know!" Scott talks over him, wrapping his arms around himself as he stands. "Maybe?" His voice cracks and the sound reverberates hard in Isaac's chest; making him realize how lost the other wolf really is. He has no idea what he's doing and he's trying to grasp at anything that might comfort him into feeling like he's in control.
Isaac shakes his head. "Scott…"
"I can't do this." Scott whispers, swallowing hard against the moisture filling his eyes.
He starts to panic, the sensation building up in his chest because…not only will he lose Scott but he feels like he's getting kicked out of Derek's all over again. He'll lose his alpha and his adopted home, that safe and secure feeling, he'll lose Mrs. McCall and the feeling of family he was just starting to accept. He'll lose the only person he has.
"Don't do this." Isaac begs but Scott is already turning to leave the room.
And Isaac. Isaac lets him go.
0o0o0o0o
Scott wanders out to the front porch; which probably isn't the safest place but he can't spend another minute in the house. The scent of Isaac's blood and the disappointment and hurt is clogging up his nose and making a lump appear in his throat. He can't afford to feel like this right now and he wipes the wetness from his eyes and hanging on his eyelashes with his forearm before sitting on the porch swing.
The screen door opens and closes and he's about to tell whoever it is to leave him alone but he knows instantly its Stiles and it's not like his best friend will listen anyways. So he sits in silence as the boy settles next to him.
"I don't want to talk about it." Scott says and Stiles scoffs.
"Well, buddy; you're best friends with the wrong person if you want to pull the passive aggressive card." Stiles bumps his shoulder with his own. "Sorry to say, you've got no choice."
0o0o0o0
Isaac feels bad about the amount of blood that's coating the living room.
It's like everywhere he turns there's a stain on the carpet or coffee table or couch. His father hated stains, always wanted things spotless and pristine. He'd scrub at carpets or tiled floors to remove alcohol stains or spilled coffee until his fingers bled. And then his father would create another mess for him to start all over again.
He knows it's not exactly his fault for…bleeding all over the place but he feels like he should probably try and clean up after himself. And then he realizes Allison's still in the kitchen and he regrets walking through the threshold the moment she looks up at him. He distracts himself by tugging at the clean t-shirt he had slipped on after Scott had left and refuses to meet her eyes.
But she's persistent. "So you and Scott."
No, he's definitely not having this conversation. He looks under the kitchen sink for stain remover and takes the bottle, shoving it under his arm before grabbing the paper towels.
"I have to clean up." Is all he says before turning on his heel out of there.
And of course she follows him. "I'll help you."
0o0o0o
Sometimes Scott hates how determined Stiles is; it's usually an admirable trait but when he doesn't want to talk about something it almost becomes irritating enough to punch him in the face for.
"So you had a fight, it's not the end of the world."
Scott shakes his head. "It's more complicated than that, Stiles."
"Since when is anything with you simple?" He snorts and nearly swallows his tongue when Scott glares at him. He clears his throat. "What did you two fight about?"
His eyes wander out to the lake, thinking about their argument earlier before the arrows. Everything had just been stacking up—not telling everyone about them (which is now irrelevant), the comments he'd heard between him and Allison, the fact that Isaac had too much trust while Scott didn't have enough, and now what happened to Isaac on top of all of their problems.
It's just about… "Everything," Scott admits, a dry laugh following. "A lot of stuff that's been building up for a while now." He shakes his head, looking down at his hands. "It doesn't really matter anyways, we broke up."
"Don't you sort of have to…acknowledge that you're even together before you can break up?" Stiles asks and Scott gives him a long and hard look that can give Derek's glares a run for their money. "Or not, okay, that's not the point."
0o0o0o0o
Isaac sighs as he leans up from scrubbing, tilting his head at the stain that's seemed to have changed shape…which means the stain remover is working or he's just shifted his blood onto other fibers in the carpet. Allison is hovering too close for his liking, she's trying to help but he neither wants nor needs it. She's trying to lift the stain of his blood from the fabric of the couch, biting her lip in concentration as she leans into her administrations.
"You and Scott." She's been trying to engage him into this conversation for the past ten minutes and Isaac's patience is starting to wear thin. He leans back on his legs and looks up at her but says nothing. She turns her head to give him her attention. "I didn't realize something was going on but part of me thinks I should have."
Isaac's eyebrows draw together and he can't help but ask, "Why?"
She smiles softly but it's sad. He realizes that she's finally just letting go, admitting defeat. "Scott looks at you sometimes like…like he'd do anything for you." She bites her lower lip and looks away from Isaac. "He used to look at me like that."
He feels something break in his chest at the admission but he doesn't know what it is or whether or not he'll ever need it again. It falls and disappears, evaporates. He almost hates that Allison is telling him this now, when it doesn't even matter anymore.
Because the thing Scott and he had is over and done with, they've broken up or better yet, they've been torn apart and her words mean little now. Scott's made up his mind and that's all there is to it.
"Doesn't matter." He replies gruffly, choosing to focus on the cleaner burning the pads of his fingertips instead of Allison's wide eyes.
Her breath catches in her throat and he hates that it's the second time today that he's had to sense realization swirling off of her body.
"I didn't realize you gave up so easily, Lahey."
His eyes snap to hers as his mouth hangs open; Allison merely shakes her head before sighing as she taps her fingers against her thigh.
0o0o0o0o0
"Stop looking at me like that."
Stiles scoffs. "If you can't handle the look I'm giving you I can't imagine how you handled the broken hearted puppy dog look Isaac must have given you when you kicked him to the curb."
Scott winces. "That's not what happened. I'm trying to protect him."
"Trust me; I know what you're doing. If I know anything about you at this point in our long and arduous, while completely satisfying, friendship is how self sacrificing you are." Stiles starts, tilting his head a little to try and catch Scott's gaze. "…but trying to push Isaac away isn't going to save him…or anyone else, for that matter."
Scott's fingers dig into his thighs. "I was completely useless when he got hurt…" And it's like he can hear the wheels turning in Stiles' head—Scott McCall blaming himself yet again for something that's out of his control and not his fault but he can't help it.
"And what if something like that happens again?" He asks, turning a little on the porch swing and making it creak. "What if next time the alpha pack uses him to get to me?"
Stiles shakes his head slowly, like he's about to explain something to a small child. The sympathy barreling into him from his body is enough to make Scott cringe. "But…you can easily say that about any of us, Scott. About Lydia, Allison…me. Even your mom."
Scott swallows, his grip loosening on his legs. He thinks for a moment about what his friend has said and hates to admit that he's sort of right. But it's too late now, isn't it? What's been said to Isaac can't easily be taken back like he's never opened his mouth in the first place. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a long and tired breath.
"Don't lose Isaac because you're scared." Stiles mutters, sarcasm and light gone from the tone of his voice.
He doesn't linger on the fact that Stiles sounds like he's speaking from experience.
0o00o0o
"I don't give up easily." He glares at her but it sounds like a lie even to his own ears.
It's not like she's completely off base or anything but he's not about to force Scott into something he doesn't seem to want with all his priorities taking the driver's seat. He hadn't been trying to force Scott into changing what he thought was important…all he was asking was for him to consider their…relationship or whatever it was to be just as significant. Maybe giving up easily is something Allison should be discussing with her ex.
She turns on the couch and swings her legs over the edge, Isaac still pretending his hardest that she doesn't have some sort of insider information that he needs. "Scott is…stubborn."
He snorts; honestly like that's something he hasn't been able to piece together on his own.
Allison sighs and decides to rephrase. "I mean, in a selfless sort of way. It's very honorable that he wants to protect the people that he loves," He swallows and digs his upper teeth into his lower lip, glancing at the girl beside him. She smiles softly, tilting her head at him. "But as you and I both know it's very unrealistic."
Was she…actually trying to give him advice? On her ex? His eyebrows crinkle as he licks his lips, trying to put his thoughts into words without sounding ungrateful. "Why are you…trying to help me?" He asks, looking up at her, eyes wide and sky blue.
Allison looks down at her fingers before shrugging her one shoulder; her voice is soft and timid. He's never heard it like that before; even when she's sad she's got this toned streak to her voice, this pure strength that he's certain Scott knows and has fallen in love with once. But it's gone from her voice this time, absent, disappeared, dissipated. She just…sounds like a normal girl, most likely heartbroken, filled with her own regrets.
He almost understands.
"When Scott and I broke up he said he'd wait for me even though I told him not to." She smiles softly and looks over at Isaac. "But when he said that…I don't think he ever expected to move on, you know? To be happy with someone else? I want him to be happy." She swallows. "He's happy with you."
She reaches out and ruffles his curls and Isaac swallows the urge to tell her to stop looking at him like he's some sort of puppy…because the action almost warms his heart. Almost. He refuses to turn this into a moment…even though it sort of is one without his permission.
That strength is back in her voice, reinforcing her words and letting him know that she means what she says. She's instructing him. "You can't let him pull away."
Isaac's lost a lot of things in his life. Some things he's lost on accident, like his mother and brother, his father, his ability to trust people and his dignity; some things on purpose, like the person he used to be before he was bit, Derek as his alpha and his anger towards his father.
Some things that are lost he misses deeply and it's like a hole inside of him that will never be completely closed or healed. And the last thing he wants is for Scott to be added to the bottom of that list.
The last thing he wants is to lose him.
0o0o0o0o0
They all gather in the living room once Scott and Stiles come back in from the porch. Lydia joins them from upstairs, nodding her head that all the windows are locked and Isaac and Allison settle down on the loveseat since the couch is damp with cleaner and light pink stains. They manage to remove most of the red but it's still there, reminding them that while it's been quiet around the cabin for a half n hour that there is still someone out there who shot these arrows in the first place.
Isaac does his best not to watch Scott as he moves past him and sits in another chair, Stiles taking the arm of the couch and Lydia hovering nearby. The talk with Allison was, as much as he doesn't like to admit it, helpful but…he still doesn't have the slightest clue what to do about it. Scott is the one walking away from him; he knows that a relationship won't be the easiest thing to maintain. A constant struggle between what Scott deserves and what he thinks his priorities are.
"We need to talk about what we're going to do." Stiles says, interrupting everyone's thoughts.
Scott clears his throat. "We were out on the porch for a while and nothing happened. Maybe…" He trails off quietly and the look on everyone's face isn't as hopeful as he sounds.
"If whoever shot Isaac is in fact a hunter," Allison speaks up. "Then they know that run of the mill arrows aren't going to be enough to kill him."
"That's comforting." Isaac mutters, earning a grim smirk from Stiles.
She shifts back into the loveseat, her shoulder brushing his. "That was just a warning, sort of like…"
"A singing telegram to let us know they're here." Stiles relates wryly. "How thoughtful."
"I hate to point out the obvious, but it's not like there's a lot of suspects around to choose from. We've only met two other people who are living out here for the time being and who know Isaac." Lydia crosses her arms over his chest and Stiles snaps his fingers in her direction.
"Lydia's right, Charlie and Ally…" He looks over at Scott. "It has to be."
Isaac refuses to mention that that's what he's been thinking about since the first time he met them. He rubs the back of his neck and is about to say something but Scott steps in, taking the pressure off his shoulders.
"Are we sure?" He asks. "They just…don't seem like the type."
Allison sets her hands on her lap. "Hunters learn to adapt and blend in, it's actually a really smart tactic that they managed to get close to us and take notes on Isaac without us even realizing it."
Stiles shivers. "Creepy."
Scott turns to Isaac, looking at him and he tries to ignore the significant electric current running down his spine when their eyes connect. "You said you felt like something was off with Ally."
"Yeah but…I was wrong, she just had a crush on me."
"Maybe it was more than that." Allison offers, looking over at Scott before Isaac. "Maybe that's what she wanted you to think."
Isaac stands and runs his hands through his curls, frustrated. It's ironic that before all this happened he would have given anything to have someone on his side about this, to actually think that all the weird noises and arrows and hints were actually something, that he wasn't just paranoid and making it all up. And perhaps he's letting his one conversation with Ally cloud his judgment but…he likes her, he understands what she's going through, he doesn't want to think that she's the one trying to kill him.
Stiles glances over at Scott before nodding his head. "I think it's time we found out a little more about the Campbell family."
O0o0o0o
Lydia had brought her laptop up to the cabin because apparently 'you never know when you're going to need to do some online shopping' or, you know, investigate a family who was trying to kill one of your friends. Isaac tells everything to the group about the conversation he had with Ally at the lake, he figures it's the least he can do while Stiles searches online (and logs into the police database with his father's username and password) to find anything that can tell them what they don't know about the Campbell family that might help. He's not sure what Lydia and Stiles are looking for but he figures he should just let them do their thing and retreats to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.
He's in the midst of stirring in sugar and cream when Scott wanders past the threshold. He tenses, his shoulders curling in on themselves as he sits at the island counter and tries to let the other wolf do what he needs to do and leave. But he feels him stand next to him and oh, apparently Scott hasn't come in here to get away from Stiles flirting shamelessly with Lydia over the keyboard of her laptop or for a cup of coffee.
Isaac swallows and keeps stirring his coffee, slowly looking to his side. "There's more in the pot…if you want it." He says because he has no idea what else to say.
Scott opens his mouth and then snaps it shut again. He pulls the other island chair aside so that he's standing right next to Isaac's legs. "Do you really think Ally did this?" That's definitely not what he was going to say but Isaac doesn't want to press. Doesn't have the energy to.
"I don't know." He says honestly, looking down at his coffee cup. "I sort of hope not. You didn't hear her when she was talking about her parents, there was so much…pain in her voice."
He swallows, hating how much he understands the pain caused by parents; even though this isn't the same as what he's gone through. But Ally…she seems like such a sweet girl, someone who deserves to have a normal life. He blames Erica; naturally, if Ally didn't remind him so much of her he'd probably be more indifferent to all of this. But he can't help but acknowledge the common theme of joining Derek's pack, the pure anger and fear and pain that conjoins all three betas together even though Erica is gone. Erica was angry at her disease, Boyd was afraid of being alone and Isaac just…he had been so tired of feeling helpless against pain that any alternative seemed better. But the bite hadn't saved them. The anger and fear and pain were still here…it just came in different forms.
"I'd just…hate to think that pain has turned her into…" He trails off.
"Someone who's capable of hurting other people?"
Isaac sighs softly and closes his eyes because of course Scott understands. He nods his head and squeezes the coffee cup in his hands until he hears the ceramic creak like it might crack between his fingers. Scott's hands come up alongside his and his palms gently press into bones and knuckles, his grip loosening at the touch. He doesn't realize his heart is pounding miles a minute until he hears it slow to a gentle thumping noise behind his ribcage. He swallows as Scott leans forward, rests his forehead against Isaac's temple, his breath from his nose brushing against the top of his ear.
"I know what you're thinking." And of course he does. Sometimes he hates how perceptive Scott is, or rather, he just hates how he knows him so well without even trying. "You know, even if she did this," Scott whispers, his one hand moving from the mug to gently run down Isaac's back hunched over the counter. "She's not a loss cause."
He knows that Scott is probably thinking about Allison, about the path she went down with her grandfather when the pain from the loss of her mother caused her to blur the lines between right and wrong. Allison has done things, she's hurt people she's close to, physically and emotionally, but she came back from that. She's not lost to her mistakes. To her pain.
Isaac lets out a long breath he doesn't realize he's holding until Scott uses the hand that was on his back to gently grasp his chin. He turns his face to look at him and he bites his lip hard, trying to avoid the other's eyes. He hates that Scott knows how upset he is about this, he hates how much he relates to Ally and how Ally reminds him of Erica. He just…he hates it.
Scott rests his forehead against Isaac's, his hand moving to cup his jaw and run his thumb underneath his eye to catch nonexistent tears that haven't fallen yet but that are easily welling up in his eyes. He sniffles softly as Scott presses a long kiss to his cheekbone before pulling back.
He opens his mouth to say something when Allison comes into the kitchen, a soft noise escaping her lips as she realizes she's interrupted something.
"Oh, uhm…" She looks between the two of them as Isaac runs a hand over his face and Scott clears his throat, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Sorry but Stiles found something."
Isaac stands and takes a long sip of his coffee; he can't help but wonder what that was even about before Allison interrupted since he thought they had broken up. Or separated or whatever it's called when you're sort of together and then part ways. He knew staying in a gray area was a bad idea.
But he supposes on top of everything else that what's going on between him and Scott is the last thing he should be worrying about.
O0o0o0o0
"I thought you said Ally's parents died in a car crash." Stiles starts when they've all gathered in the living room again.
Scott is sitting a lot closer to him than he was before and…that's really not something he should be focusing on right now. He frowns, his eyebrows crinkling together as he looks between the open laptop, the bright blue screen reflecting on Lydia's face as she sits on the floor near the coffee table and Stiles' patient expression as he holds notes in his hands.
"She did."
Stiles shifts on his feet before sitting on the arm on the couch again. "She must have been lying about it."
Isaac shakes his head, ignoring Scott's gaze weighing on his shoulders. "No, I listened to her heartbeat. There were no irregularities, no skips. Nothing." He looks at the papers between Stiles' fingers; where is he going with this?
"But you said her heart was beating faster than normal." Allison points out.
"She was upset," Isaac counters, stating the fact like it's obvious. "I mean, she was talking about her parents dying. I'd be worried if her heartbeat wasn't speeding while trying to tell someone about it."
Scott nods his head, a silent weight of support in Isaac's favor. "He's got a point."
"She wasn't lying." He repeats.
"Well they did find her parents in a car but…" Lydia trails off, looking up at Stiles.
"It was weird," Stiles comments, then rolls his eyes because 'weird' is too often a term that they have to deal with anymore. "The coroner report said that the slashes all over Mr. and Mrs. Campbell's bodies looked like…"
"Claw marks." Lydia whispers, looking over at Scott and Isaac.
Stiles nods his head. "But the police ruled out an animal attack because their car was smashed into a tree and it just…it looked like a bad accident, glass was everywhere and could have easily caused the slashes but the coroner wasn't convinced."
Isaac's face twists into a look of confusion. "I don't understand…so what killed their parents? Ally wasn't lying to me. She just…" He looks over at Scott and swallows. "She wasn't."
Scott nods his head gently. "We believe you." But something told him that the other wolf was the only one who really thought that.
When he glances at Stiles again he can almost literally hear the wheels turn in his head, like he's trying to put two and two together and keeps getting six until it dawns on him that it equals four. Isaac raises his eyebrows when Stiles snaps the papers he's holding off of his wrist.
"Maybe she wasn't lying…at least, not really. Not to Isaac, anyways."
Lydia's confusion speaks for all of them. "Come again?"
Stiles stands up, like that'll make his words more convincing. "Think about it. She lost her parents in something…violent and unexplainable. Whether it was an animal attack or a car crash both are sudden, maybe she told herself a lie to cope."
Isaac looks down at his hands resting on his lap, recalling the anger in Ally's voice when she told him about the driver who hit her parents. That could easily be transferred from an unexplained animal attack. Both were sudden and violent. But if it was an animal attack, or better yet—a werewolf attack (everyone was thinking it, he could tell by the look on everyone's faces and how they kept glancing at Scott and him), why were her parents bodies put back into their car to look like a car crash?
"How many times do you tell yourself a lie before you start to believe it?"
Scott is closer to him now; he can feel the heat of his body before his shoulder is pressed comfortingly into his own. How many times did he tell himself that his father didn't mean to get so angry with him? That he didn't mean to hit so hard or drag him down the steps or lock him in a freezer for hours on end? How many times did he tell himself those things until he believed they were true? Until he started defending his father to other people and covering for him. That his bruises were because he was clumsy or his broken bones were from lacrosse.
"Maybe what she told Isaac is something she honestly wants to believe."
"So what, werewolves killed her parents and now she's taking it out on any werewolf she meets?" Allison asks, looking unconvinced.
"Your grandfather did a lot more for a lot less." Scott mutters, his arm moving to settle behind Isaac's back. "It's not exactly a far stretch."
"How would Ally even know that Isaac is a werewolf?" Lydia closes her laptop.
Isaac closes his eyes as Stiles snaps his fingers. "The wolfsbane, it has to be. That shit made you sick as a dog, no pun intended, right in front of them. It must have been in the air or maybe even on them when you and Allison ran into them in the woods."
"What about Charlie?" Scott's voice vibrates against his ribs and Isaac rubs his forehead, not wanting to step in on any part of this conversation. "Do you think he knows what his sister is doing?"
It makes sense, no matter how much he wants to deny it. For some reason he can't stop that…sympathizing sensation from crawling up from the pit of his stomach. In a way he understands why Ally would be doing this, would be seeking revenge. He remembers the rage in her voice when she spoke about the driver that hit her parents, what she would do if she only knew who was to blame. That type of rage that builds and bottles and disintegrates.
Isaac is finally about to add his own commentary to this whole thing when the lights extinguish like someone's blown them out like candles.
And the room is plunged into darkness.
