"Are you sure this is okay? It's kind of rude to just show up to someone's house with no notice," Isaac asked, fidgeting in the backseat of the jeep. He'd been mostly quiet during the drive to Scott's house, no matter how much either of them tried to pull him into conversation. Stiles was more casual about it, while Scott sounded like he was conducting an interview with the world's most boring questions. But now he knew that Isaac's favorite color was blue and his favorite season was winter, so there was that.

"Dude, it's fine. Melissa loves it when I stop by unannounced. I'm practically her second kid," Stiles assured him. Melissa wasn't the type to send away anyone, especially a kid in need. This was a good opportunity to give Isaac an adult ally in town, in case he ever felt like he could open up about what was going on with his dad.

"That's you. I'm nobody to her," Isaac pointed out, running his hand through his hair.

"You're our friend," Scott said brightly, trying to sound optimistic.

"If I ever brought someone to my house, it wouldn't be good," Isaac added quietly, staring down at his shoes. Stiles couldn't imagine being afraid to bring someone to his house. Things were difficult after his mom died when his dad wasn't handling it the best, but he was never worried that his dad would hurt him. It was the last thing a parent should want to do.

"Well, you're always welcome at my house."

"Finally, a perk from getting the crap kicked out of me and kidnapped," Isaac muttered bitterly. Scott tried to keep the smile on his face, but Stiles could see it wavering a bit. Isaac must've noticed too, since he looked a bit embarrassed by his statement. "Sorry. I'm so used to no one giving a shit about me and now I have random people claiming they do. Putting my faith into someone didn't really work out too well for me recently."

"We're a lot more trustworthy than Derek," Stiles assured him. "He's always sneaking around and being creepy. We sneak around too when the situation calls for it, but in a normal way. A good guy, trustworthy way."

"I probably should've known better when I met him in a cemetery in the middle of the night. That isn't usually how healthy relationships start. But I guess I was so relieved that he didn't kill me immediately that it was easy to fall for what he was saying," Isaac sighed, running his hands through his curls. "Like the protective big brother mine never really was."

"Oh, you have a brother?" Scott asked.

"Not anymore."

"Look at that, we're here," Stiles said quickly, pulling up in front of the McCall house. The longer they stayed in the jeep, the sadder Isaac's backstory was getting. At least in the house, Stiles would be able to get some distance from him to hide his reaction.

"You can still change your mind. I can walk home and you can forget we ever met," Isaac offered, wringing his seat belt in his hands.

"Don't be silly. Of course you're coming in," Scott replied, waving him out as he climbed from the jeep. Isaac reluctantly followed, looking like if he had the energy he would've taken off in the other direction anyway. But he really did look exhausted. Stiles had the urge to yawn just from being in his presence.

"Melissa, I'm home!" Stiles called out as he walked into the house, glancing around for the woman he considered a second parent to him. He was able to count on her just as much as he counted on his dad. And maybe Isaac would be able to have something like that with her as well.

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, at lacrosse practice?" Melissa called back.

"Man, Finstock has got a grip on this whole town, doesn't he?" Stiles snorted.

"We have company," Scott announced.

"Since when is Stiles considered- oh!" Melissa said in surprise as she walked into the room and realized there was an extra person she hadn't been expecting. "Isaac!"

"Hi, Nurse McCall," Isaac greeted timidly.

"Oh honey, you can call me Melissa," Melissa insisted, walking over to fuss over Isaac. She was fully in mom mode and Stiles could recall the many times it had been aimed toward him. He couldn't begin to describe how much he appreciated it. "Are you feeling okay? I wanted them to keep you in the hospital a few more days, but who listens to nurses?"

"I'm fine," Isaac mumbled, keeping himself stock-still as she fluttered around him. Scott was watching everything with a giant grin. If anyone could break through Isaac's defenses, it was Melissa.

"An illness like that can take a lot out of you, even after you think you're better. Your body is still healing. I'm glad you skipped lacrosse. If your coach gives you any flack for taking it easy, you just send him to me," Melissa declared, setting the back of her hand on Isaac's forehead. He only flinched a little.

"I don't think he'll care. I'm not exactly first string," Isaac replied, slowly relaxing under a mother's touch.

"Each member of the team is equally as important. From the ones who play the most to the ones who play the least."

"That's me," Stiles grinned, raising his hand.

"Are you hungry? Can I make something for you?" Melissa offered, leading Isaac over to the couch.

"No need to go out of your way. Scott and Stiles were just going to help me catch up on the schoolwork I missed," Isaac said, looking a little flustered at all the attention.

"You know, I think I have the ingredients for a nice soup. You all sit tight, should be ready in a little bit," Melissa declared, bustling out of the room like a ball of energy. Isaac stared after her with wide eyes, before turning back to him and Scott.

"Wow," Isaac mumbled.

"That's my mom," Scott shrugged.

"She's great," Isaac whispered, sounding in awe of the whole interaction. Stiles figured it was far outside the realm of what Isaac was used to, which made him sad. Everything he'd heard about his dad was negative and he knew Derek well enough to know the guy probably hadn't been the best kidnapper. Someone needed to show Isaac how things were supposed to be.

Scott got everyone situated in the living room, pulling out school books to keep what Isaac said from being a lie. Technically they'd brought him over to rest, but this was fine too. Stiles didn't have much to do, since he did most of his work in his slower classes. It was always better to get things done the first chance he got, in case there was another werewolf crisis he had to deal with.

Melissa came back a few minutes later with a tray of drinks. Isaac's eyes went wide again as she explained what everything was, nudging the Pedialyte in his direction. If motherly Melissa was a force, she was unstoppable when she put her nurse's hat on as well. She waited until Isaac took a small sip, then nodded her approval and went back into the kitchen.

"This is weird. I've never had so many people worried about my liquid consumption before. Or worried about me in general. Too bad this couldn't have happened a few years ago. Might've saved me a lot of trouble," Isaac mumbled.

"Years?" Stiles asked quietly, feeling sick at the thought. The idea of Isaac being abused for so long with no one noticing was horrifying. Stiles knew he was a kid as well and wasn't responsible for saving the world, but he still felt guilty. If Derek hadn't taken Isaac, no one would've known.

"It wasn't always this bad," Isaac said quickly. It seemed like the instinct to defend his father was ingrained in him, no matter how wrong it was. "It got worse after my brother died, which is understandable."

"Is that you talking or that detective?" Stiles challenged.

"It's not so simple," Isaac said defensively, although there was no real anger behind his words.

"It's easier to blame something that happened that was outside of anyone's control," Scott said, nodding in understanding. "I made so many excuses for my dad after he left us. It was easier to accept when there was something I could point to. But his actions were his own choice."

"Was he…" Isaac trailed off, gesturing to the bruises that still decorated his face.

"Not like that, but he wasn't a good guy, especially to my mom. I think he did what he thought was best when he left, but it's complicated."

"I hate my dad," Isaac said suddenly, bouncing his knee anxiously. "But I love him too. And I'm terrified of him. And I want him to hug me and tell me everything's gonna be okay. And I want to leave and never see him again. I want to go back to how things were before Derek took me, but I also wish I was still in that stupid motel room, eating crappy pizza and watching daytime talk shows."

"It's confusing, since you want to see the best in the people who want to take care of you."

"Am I supposed to include Derek in that list?" Isaac scoffed, shaking his head at the thought.

"I hope you won't hate me for saying this, but in Derek's defense, he was really scared when he called me to get you from the motel the other night. Like, more scared that I'd ever heard him," Stiles said hesitantly, expecting anger from Isaac in response. "He thought he was making the best choice for you, seeing how sick you were."

"Maybe I'd be able to appreciate that if I wasn't looking at two more years stuck in a worse situation than I started out in," Isaac muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I think the worst part is that I'd started to trust him. I let myself believe that things were going to get better. That he would keep me safe. Then at the first sign of trouble, he was done."

"I really don't think he would've done that if he wasn't genuinely worried about your health. Derek's a dick and pretty much hates me, but he hasn't done anything super malicious."

"Suppose I would've said yes to becoming a werewolf and joining his pack," Isaac said, keeping his voice low so Melissa had no chance of hearing anything. "What if I'd been bad at it? Or he realized he actually didn't like me? What does an Alpha do in that situation?" Stiles and Scott stared at each other for a few seconds and he knew they were both thinking of Peter. That was a completely different story, but not a very promising precedent. Their experience with pack dynamics hadn't been the best so far.

"I don't know for sure, but I don't think Derek would've done anything to hurt you," Scott replied, but there wasn't much confidence in his voice.

"And when I was laying in that bed with a fever, I would've said the same thing about him. And yet, here I am," Isaac said with a look of dejected acceptance on his face. Stiles wasn't surprised by it, since it seemed like Isaac had been let down so many times over the years. Trying to hold onto any optimism would just make the disappointment sting harder in the end. They were saved from having to continue on that depressing path by Melissa walking back into the room, carrying a tray.

"I figured you all could eat out here where it's more comfortable," Melissa said, setting a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of each of them. "There is plenty more where this came from, if you're still hungry. There's also crackers and bread in the kitchen if you'd like some."

"Nurse McCall, I-"

"Melissa, please."

"Melissa, this is amazing. I don't know how to thank you."

"It was no trouble at all," Melissa insisted, waving off his flustered politeness. She went back into the kitchen to eat her own serving, letting Isaac relax again. Not that Stiles could really call him relaxed. Holding himself slightly less rigid would be more accurate. It was surprising how controlled he was, given his fatigue. Years of practice was probably the explanation.

"I'm surprised you're willing to eat a noodle dish this soon after the last one," Stiles said, causing Isaac to freeze with a fork halfway to his mouth.

"Dude!" Scott chastised, giving him a disappointed look.

"I'm kidding!" Stiles laughed, taking his own big bite to show Isaac it was safe. "Melissa knows how to cook. And if she messes up, she's a nurse."

"Comforting," Isaac mumbled, before taking a bite. He closed his eyes as he chewed, slumping back into the couch cushions a little.

"You okay?" Scott asked.

"Reminds me of my mom's," Isaac said quietly, before sniffling a little. "Shit."

"I have moments like that too, where a little thing will remind me of my mom and knock me on my ass," Stiles admitted.

"Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm remembering things that actually happened, or imagining things that I wish I had. But I guess anything is better than reality."

"You can talk to my dad again. He'll believe you and know what to do," Stiles insisted.

"It doesn't matter if he believes me, because there's no proof," Isaac said sadly, setting his empty bowl on the coffee table. "He explained away every mark he left on me, got rid of anything in the house that might make him look bad. Not to mention the detective he has who is willing to look the other way for him."

"But-"

"And where would I go? I don't have any other family to take me in. And no friends. I could end up in a worse situation than I'm already in," Isaac replied, shaking his head at the idea. "I've dealt with it this long and I'm so close to eighteen. Maybe this will spook my dad into laying off, since there is more attention on us now."

"Do you really believe that?" Stiles asked. Isaac didn't say anything, but the answer was clear on his face. He was resigned to the fact that nothing would or could change for him, at least in a positive way. And while Stiles wanted to insist that they could figure things out and make things better, he knew that was easier said than done. For a guy who usually came up with the plans, he was completely out of ideas.

"Well, that was depressing," Stiles muttered as he rinsed off a bowl in the sink. He and Scott had volunteered to clean up after dinner, leaving Isaac to rest in the living room and Melissa to relax in her room. It was really just an excuse for the two of them to regroup and try to figure out a solution to their Isaac problem.

"I feel bad that all of this was happening and we had no idea. Shouldn't we have known? We were in the locker room with him every afternoon."

"We're not exactly in the habit of checking out other guys while we're changing," Stiles pointed out. That was more of a middle school activity, when you were paranoid about your own body and needed to compare it to everyone else's. Now wandering eyes meant something completely different.

"But how did Derek know? He figured it out somehow," Scott reminded him.

"Derek is a sneaky stalker, that's how. He probably knows everything about me, with how many times he's snuck into my bedroom," Stiles grumbled.

"I doubt he was doing the same with Isaac."

"It doesn't really matter how he found out and fretting over us not realizing before won't change anything. We can only control what we do going forward."

"Which is?"

"I don't know," Stiles sighed, handing Scott a pan to dry and put away. "The only thing we can do for now is keep being his friend, so he has someone he can trust."

"Doesn't seem like enough."

"You could always give in to those werewolf instincts and pay Isaac's dad a visit," Stiles suggested, only half joking. He wouldn't egg Scott on to really do it, but he wouldn't stop him if he wanted to.

"Stiles."

"I'm just saying," Stiles said defensively, holding up his hands in surrender. Scott was very rigid in his views of what was right and what was wrong. But after these past few months, Stiles knew things weren't so black and white. Sometimes, things were a big gray.

"Let's get back to Isaac before he sneaks off," Scott said, tossing his towel on the counter and walking back toward the living room. He stopped short at the threshold of the room, letting out a soft noise of surprise. Isaac had fallen asleep on the couch, leaning over to rest his head on the arm. He looked more relaxed than he had sleeping in the motel, under the influence of his fever. "At least we won't have to worry about him for tonight."

"One night down, only a few hundred left to go," Stiles mumbled. He jumped in surprise at the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket, before rushing back into the kitchen so it wouldn't wake Isaac. He answered without looking at the screen, wanting to quiet the sound as soon as possible. "Hello?"

"How is he?"

"Fancy hearing from you, Derek. It's been a while."

"Stiles, I'm not in the mood."

"Sounds like a personal problem." Stiles knew he was being a bit of a dick, but he felt like Derek deserved it.

"Just tell me how Isaac is."

"How would I know?"

"Because you're at Scott's house with him."

"I should've known you were skulking around nearby," Stiles scoffed, peeking out the nearest window for a glimpse of the sneaky werewolf. He knew he wouldn't be able to see Derek unless the man wanted to be seen, but it didn't hurt to try. "If you really want to know, he's pissed at you."

"I don't care about that," Derek insisted, but Stiles could hear the lie in his voice. He may not have the heartbeat lie detector thing, but he was good at reading people. "Was the hospital able to fix him?"

"No, they released him to live out his final days at Scott's house. He's planning his funeral in the living room."

"Stiles." Stiles paused at the hint of desperation in Derek's tone. Even though his actions were callous, Derek had been afraid when he called Stiles and asked him to take Isaac. He still didn't understand the relationship, but Derek obviously had come to care about Isaac. The werewolf was terrible at showing it in a healthy way, but it was there.

"He's okay. Still on the mend, but not in any danger. From the illness, at least." Derek let out a long sigh that turned to more of a growl near the end. He knew what Stiles meant by that. Derek had been the one to tell them those details, after all.

"And he hates me," Derek said, matter-of-factly.

"I said pissed."

"Same thing."

"He's hurt," Stiles said softly, feeling like he was telling a secret he shouldn't. "He let himself believe that you were going to save him from his life. And when it didn't work out, it shattered him."

"I didn't- it wasn't supposed to end like that."

"Looking at it from the outside, I understand the choice you made. But that doesn't change things for the situation Isaac's in now. It's easier for him to be mad at you because that's something he can control."

"Well, if it'll make him feel better, you can tell him I'm leaving town. He won't ever have to see me again."

"Are you serious?" Stiles asked incredulously. He hadn't been expecting that.

"There is nothing left for me in this town. No point in staying."

"Derek-"

"Keep an eye out for Isaac. He's a good kid."

"You should tell him that yourself. Just come in and I'm sure he'll give you a chance."

"It'll be better for the both of us if I don't," Derek replied. Stiles could hear movement on the other end of the line and he knew that Derek was walking away. He was such a stubborn bastard. "Try not to get yourself killed, Stilinski."

"Wait-" Stiles heard the call disconnect before he could say anything else. Leave it to Derek to kick off all this chaos, then leave them to pick up the pieces and deal with it.

"Derek's leaving?" Scott asked, materializing behind him suddenly. Damn werewolves.

"Apparently," Stiles sighed, shoving the phone back in his pocket. "And he transferred custody of Isaac over to us."

"Unbelievable," Scott ground out in frustration. "Not that I don't like Isaac. He seems like a good guy and all, but this is-"

"Above our pay grade?" Stiles finished for him.

"Kind of, yeah. I thought this werewolf stuff was going to be the only thing we had to deal with for a while."

"Maybe losing his son for a few days has made Isaac's dad turn over a new leaf?"

"Do you really believe that?"

"No," Stiles grumbled. Even if he had, they couldn't trust it. And people typically didn't pull a 180 like that. They were going to have to do everything they could to keep an eye on Isaac and gently nudge him in the direction of coming clean to the authorities about what was going on at home. Easier said than done.