Isaac had felt the tension building. He wasn't an idiot. When you dealt with things like this for so long, you started to recognize the pattern. And even though his disappearance for a few days had been a previously unseen variable in it all, not that much changed. At least with his dad's personality.

Isaac's life had taken a definite turn. Stiles and Scott stuck around, even after everything settled. He still wasn't sure if he was really their friend or their project, but it was better than anything he'd had before. Having a place to go that his dad wasn't connected to was incredible.

That first time he'd gone to Scott's house and fell asleep, he woke up the next morning in a panic. He was about to race out of the house to do damage control with his dad when Scott stopped him, letting him know that his mom had called him the night before. She'd seen his phone number in the hospital records and spoke to him, assuring his dad that Isaac was fine and sleeping at her house for the night. Melissa made sure to slip in some subtle hints about her job and her friendship with the sheriff. To anyone else listening, it would've been a parent telling another parent that their child was safe and in good hands, when in truth it was a warning that other adults were involved and watching. It was pretty ballsy, in Isaac's opinion. Risky, but ballsy.

He'd expected his dad to rage at him the second Isaac was back home, but he hadn't. The anger was still simmering under the surface, but it wasn't let out. Maybe it was because his go-to method of punishment had mysteriously vanished before Isaac was let out of the hospital. Isaac had been shocked to see the thing gone, since it had been a looming presence for so long. It made sense for his dad to get rid of it, since the police had probably been by during the search for him. Public image was a powerful influence. Too bad Isaac hadn't figured that out before.

Derek was still a sore subject for him. Isaac hadn't seen the man since he lifted him inside of Stiles' jeep and sent him away. And he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to see him again. A part of him did believe that Derek thought what he was doing was what was best. What would've been the point of saving him from his dad and taking care of him for days, if he wasn't planning on being around for good? Why bother at all if he was just going to send him right back to where he came from? Maybe Derek was a maniac and only did it for the pleasure of hurting him, but that didn't sound like the guy who chose to pull the pain from Isaac's body. Even if this was all a series of unfortunate circumstances, Isaac still couldn't forgive him.

Everything came to a head just when Isaac's body had finally felt back to normal. His bruises had faded and he'd gotten the all clear to rejoin lacrosse practice. The doctor's appointment with his father for his final check-up had been awkward, since he'd had to play the role of concerned dad. But he was on his best behavior, even asking questions as if he cared about Isaac's health at all.

Unfortunately, Nurse McCall hadn't been the one to check him over. Part of him was glad that she wouldn't have to be in his dad's presence, since that was never fun for anyone. A smaller part of him wished she was there, but Isaac would never admit it out loud. Every time he saw her, she was so kind to him. She was beginning to be someone he thought he might be able to trust, if he did that sort of thing anymore. Sometimes when he fell asleep, he would dream that he'd wake up to the smell of her making pancakes in the kitchen, instead of his dad's stale coffee with an extra nip. Those nights were a lot better than the ones haunted by freezers and fists.

"You want to come to the clinic with me?" Scott asked, shoving his lacrosse gear in his locker. "I have a short shift tonight, mostly to help with Maple and her new puppies."

"What are their names? Glazed? Jelly? Old-Fashioned?" Stiles wondered.

"Why would you think donuts before trees?"

"Because I'm not a nerd, Scott," Stiles scoffed.

"You aren't?" Scott asked innocently.

"Nah, I'm that rare mix of being smart and cool," Stiles bragged, wagging his eyebrows.

"Anyways," Scott groaned, turning his attention back to him. "Isaac?"

"I've actually got an essay I need to finish up for tomorrow," Isaac replied, noticing the way Scott's cheek twitched in disappointment.

"Well then, you can do it at Stiles' house while I'm working. Homework is always better to do with company," Scott suggested. Isaac barely hid his grimace at the idea of going to Stiles' house. The possibility of running into the sheriff set his nerves on edge. Even if their previous interaction hadn't been negative, Isaac didn't want to be questioned by him now. He didn't want to lie, but he also couldn't tell the truth.

"I've already started it on my computer at home," Isaac shrugged, looking away now that Scott was openly frowning. It wasn't like he hadn't gone home at all since his time with Derek, but they all tried to make it as rare as possible. Isaac would mostly just cross paths with his dad on his way to and from his bedroom. And once he was in, he didn't go out.

"Isaac-"

"It's fine. Nothing's happened and I don't think it will. I think he's realized ignoring me is easier," Isaac said, aiming for a self-deprecating laugh at the end. It fell flat. "I'm still staying over at your house this weekend."

"I know, it's just…" Scott trailed off helplessly. The words didn't need to be said. They were worried about him, which still blew Isaac's mind. It didn't feel real. And that was part of the reason that Isaac wasn't sticking by Scott and Stiles' side and avoiding his house completely.

Isaac couldn't rely on them for everything. Right now, it was still new and somewhat easy. They didn't have to do much beyond hang out. But what happened if things got harder? Or they decided they didn't like him? What if they got burned out on his drama and had something else more important to deal with? Isaac would be left to go crawling back to his dad with nothing to fall back on. If he started dealing with things on his own now, it wouldn't be so hard when he was truly on his own again.

"Text me pictures of the puppies, okay? I'll see you tomorrow," Isaac said, walking out of the locker room before Scott or Stiles could reply. He didn't know if they were relaying any information to Derek about how things were going, since they pointedly didn't bring him up. Isaac wondered if he was watching and waiting to swoop in at the first sign of trouble. He wasn't sure if he hated the idea or hoped for it.

Isaac took his time on the walk back to his house. There was an essay due, but it wouldn't take that long. He was just trying to find that sweet spot of time where his dad would have a full stomach from dinner and not beer. His dad's schedule was wonky, thanks to the different demands of the cemetery, so it was always a guessing game. Apparently the universe decided he needed to lose.

Isaac could tell he was in trouble the second he stepped in the house. He didn't even see his father, but he could feel his presence. That had been a skill Isaac developed out of survival. He had to be hyper aware of his dad, so he could try to prepare for what was coming. It rarely helped him escape his fate, but being forewarned was being forearmed. He thought about turning around and walking right back out the door. Or trying to sneak to his bedroom. But the sound of his dad's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Isaac, would you come into the kitchen?" his dad called out. He framed it like a request instead of a demand, but Isaac knew it wasn't optional. If he disobeyed a direct order, there would be hell to pay. His dad didn't forget anything. There would always be something he could pull to justify his actions. Not following his command was the most grievous offense.

Isaac took a few deep breaths to try and steady himself as he walked to the kitchen. Looking guilty would make his dad think he had something to hide. These days, he had a ton of new things to hide. And somehow, the werewolf secret was barely even on his radar.

"Have a seat," his dad said as soon as he came into view. "I made dinner." He was sitting at his usual spot at the table, with a place already set for Isaac. It looked like any other meal they'd shared over the years, but it still made Isaac's palms sweat. They hadn't eaten together since the night before Derek found him. The night Isaac spent in the freezer.

He numbly walked over to the table and sat down. The smell of the food in front of him immediately turned his stomach. His dad was eating as if he hadn't a care in the world. Not outwardly angry, but that didn't mean anything. Isaac took the smallest bite he could, chewing slowly as he forced his body to not immediately reject the food.

"Is everything alright, son? You look ill," his father asked, his voice dripping with faux concern. Isaac felt all the blood drain from his face. When his dad had the wherewithal to be mocking, it meant he had full control of his actions. And his goal was to punish Isaac. "And so soon after your last sickness."

"I'm fine," Isaac mumbled, jiggling his leg under the table. He wanted to run.

"You are? Well, that's great news. I was so worried about you," his dad said exaggeratedly, going as far as to wipe the nonexistent sweat off his forehead. Isaac gripped his fork tight enough to turn his knuckles white. "Imagine my surprise when I got home from work and you weren't where I left you. I was so scared that something bad had happened to you." As if beating him and locking him in a freezer for hours wasn't something bad. Isaac didn't know what kind of mindset it took to be able to commit such heinous acts and not feel any remorse. To be able to reference it like it meant nothing.

"Nothing happened," Isaac said quietly. He definitely wasn't going to mention Derek, even if being technically kidnapped would be his best defense. It wouldn't matter to his dad. Everything would swing back to being Isaac's fault.

"Nothing happened? You get the police in my business and nothing happened?" his dad snapped, slamming his fork down onto the table. Isaac jumped, dropping his own as well. "It was bad enough when you can't handle things at the graveyard and cause thousands of dollars worth of damage, but bringing the cops to my doorstep? Boy, I knew you were stupid, but this one takes the damn cake."

"I didn't- I didn't talk to them," Isaac argued softly, keeping any hint of aggression out of his voice. Isaac could've spilled the whole truth to anyone who would listen, even if it got him nowhere, but he didn't. He kept his dad's secret, resigning himself to this fate.

"Do you think that matters? Did that stop me from being scrutinized and judged by all those people?" he asked, leaning forward. Isaac cringed back. "After all I've done for you. I put a roof over your head. I keep you fed. And for what?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry you're the one I was left with," his dad snarled. Isaac closed his eyes against the tears that wanted to fall. It wasn't like he hadn't known his dad felt that way. Hell, most of the time, he felt that way too. Camden wasn't perfect, but he was better. And his mom deserved to live a long, happy life. How was it that the worst parts of the family were the ones who remained? "Tell me where you were."

"What?" Isaac asked in confusion, risking a glance up at his dad. His eyes were laser focused on him. Isaac could practically feel the burn where they landed.

"Where were you?" his dad asked again, emphasizing each word. "Everyone else may have bought your story, but I know when you're lying. I want to know where you went."

"I- I don't remember."

"Bullshit!" his father shouted, standing up and sliding his chair back with a clatter. Isaac knew he should try to run, but he was frozen. This was why he couldn't accept Derek's offer. No matter what abilities he gained, he would always be a coward. Why bring anyone else down along with him? "Answer my question."

"Dad."

"Do you know how much I hate hearing that word come out of your mouth?" he sneered, stepping up to stand right in front of him. Isaac was practically curled into a ball in his seat, with his head hung low and his shoulders around his ears. "Those days where you weren't around were some of the best I've had in years. I prayed that you would do me a favor and never come back, but you can't do anything right, can you?" Isaac choked back a sob, trying to block out his father's harsh words. Why was it so easy for his dad to find the perfect words to destroy him? He didn't want him, Derek didn't want him. Isaac had no one.

"I'm sorry," Isaac said again, because what else could he say? There was nothing that would make anything better. Begging never helped with his dad. Begging never helped with Derek. It was as if everything was set up for failure for him from the beginning and he just had to roll with the literal punches. He was naive to think that would ever change.

The first punch to his jaw caught him off guard. Isaac fell off his chair, sprawling at his father's feet. He cupped his cheek with a shaky hand, blinking away tears born more from panic than pain. The nights where his dad was willing to cause visible bruises were always the worst. All bets were off when he didn't care.

"Pathetic," his dad snarled, reaching down to grab at his collar. Isaac tried to squirm away, but that only earned him a stinging backhand across his cheek. He let himself be pulled up, putting him inches away from his father's angry, red face. "Did you think just because I got rid of the freezer that you wouldn't be punished? That you'd be able to get away with all your crap?"

"Dad-"

"Don't call me that!" his dad roared, tossing him back to the floor. Isaac knew what was coming, but couldn't curl up in time before the first kick landed in his stomach. They kept coming, again and again, as Isaac tried to protect his most vulnerable parts. Times like these made him curse his tall stature. Each extra inch was another place for his dad to hurt.

"Stop!" Isaac pleaded, wrapping his arms around his head. His whole body was screaming in pain, but his father wasn't letting up. It seemed like all the pent up frustration from the past few weeks, possibly years, was coming out in this moment. Maybe the fear he let out in the motel had been right. Maybe his dad really was going to kill him.

"Stop!" his dad mocked, shoving him with his foot before stalking over to one of the kitchen cabinets. The one with the alcohol. Isaac took advantage of the reprieve, reaching a trembling hand down to his pocket. If he could just make a phone call, maybe someone could help him. Isaac hated asking for anything, but he was desperate. He was just about to press the button to open up his contacts when a hand reached down and gripped him around his wrist. The pain made his fingers go lax and he dropped the phone, sending it to the floor with a clatter.

"Da-" Isaac couldn't even get the word out before the side of his head collided with the wall. He slumped to the floor, laying his cheek on the cool linoleum as his head swam. His blurry phone was inches in front of him. So close, yet so far away. A text from Scott popped up, showing a picture of a litter of puppies. Isaac stared at it for a few seconds before a foot stomped down on the screen, shattering it. Just like the phone Isaac had to replace after his first encounter with a werewolf. No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the monsters.

"Do you really think anyone would want to help you? No one cares about you," he taunted, circling Isaac like he was downed prey. Isaac's head was throbbing and his brain was a mess, but he tried to tell himself that that wasn't true. He had to believe that if Scott knew what was going on, he'd come. Even Stiles, although he probably wasn't strong enough to do much. And maybe Derek.

Not the Derek who coldly sent Isaac away in Stiles' jeep while he was begging to stay, but the one who picked him up out of the freezer and carried him to safety. Not the Derek who told him to take care of himself, but the one who sat with him while he was sick and pulled the pain from his body. Not the Derek who didn't try to talk to him after all this happened, but the one he opened up to and who opened up a little in return.

Maybe they were the same person, but Isaac's hurt had been too deep to see it at the time. He wanted to discount everything that Derek had said or done, because it was easier that way. To admit that the person you looked to for salvation was flawed meant that there might not be salvation for you. And lying on the kitchen floor made that idea look so much more accurate. But maybe it just meant that Isaac had to be his own savior for once. And maybe Derek had been the one to show him how to be that person.

Isaac wasn't a fighter. During all these encounters with his father, the most he'd ever tried to do was escape. Either by pulling away or running, but never laying a hand on him. Was it because the idea of hurting his father made him sick, even if it was justified? Or because he knew he'd fail and face repercussions he couldn't even fathom? Either way, Isaac had to do something. This beating was different. He couldn't lay there and take it if he didn't think he would make it out the other end.

Isaac waited until his dad was standing near his feet, then he struck. He remembered the way Scott's leg buckled when Derek kicked it with barely any strength. Isaac didn't hold anything back. His dad's leg bent sideways from the force of Isaac's strike. He cried out in response, falling heavily on his side to the floor.

"You little bastard!" he panted, rocking on the floor as he clutched his injured knee. Isaac scooted back, trying to get as much distance as he could from the furious man. His dad lunged for him, but came up short and landed in a heap, still gripping at his leg. Isaac used the wall to force himself up to his feet and stood there for a few seconds, staring at his father. After the countless beatings Isaac had received over the years, where he was expected to go on as normal afterwards and put on an act, this was all it took to bring his father down? It was relieving and frustrating and terrifying, all at the same time.

Isaac rushed out the front door as fast as his legs would take him, leaving behind his dad who was screaming his name. He didn't think as he ran, barely seeing through the blur of tears in his eyes. All he knew was that he needed to get somewhere safe, if a place like that even existed.

He wasn't sure how far he'd gone before his body forced him to slow down. The adrenaline that had gotten him to this point was quickly leaching out of his body, leaving the full force of the pain it had been masking in its place. Isaac swiped at the sweat that was trickling down his face, jerking a little in surprise when his fingers came away red. Was he bleeding?

Isaac wrapped his arms around himself, trying to warm up. It felt like it was suddenly freezing. He hissed when he touched a tender spot on his stomach. His body was probably going to be covered in bruises again, which was unfortunately not out of the ordinary for him. He was so tired of seeing his skin marked up. He was tired of having to sit or lay a certain way, so pressure wouldn't be put on a tender area. He was tired in general.

Isaac's steps had turned from a run, to a jog, to a brisk walk, to a stumbling shuffle by the time his brain caught up to his surroundings. His muddled mind hadn't led him to Scott's house or even Stiles'. It hadn't taken him to the hospital either, which was probably where he should be. Instead, Isaac was standing outside the motel Derek had taken him to.

His legs carried him to the room they shared without much thought. As if it were an act of fate, the door was unlocked. Isaac stumbled in, barely noticing the smell of fresh paint and the emptiness of the space now. He flopped down on his old bed, curling up as best he could to stave off the chill. He should've crawled under the covers, but exhaustion was hitting him full force. All he wanted to do was sleep until this was a distant memory.

"You're an idiot." Isaac jolted in shock, moaning loudly as the move jostled his injuries. He almost forgot what prompted that response until he opened his eyes and saw Derek sitting on the bed across from him.

"What?" Isaac mumbled in confusion, blinking sluggishly as Derek wavered in and out of focus. "Derek?"

"Expecting someone else?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?" Had he been staying at the motel this whole time?

"What are you doing here? You look like shit." Isaac snorted in amusement, somehow missing Derek's prickly bedside manner.

"Thanks."

"You shouldn't be here. You need to leave."

"Kicking me out again?" Isaac whispered, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. The first time was bad enough, but he didn't know if he'd be able to survive Derek booting him again. Especially while he was like this. He'd probably curl up in a ball on the ground and give up.

"How can I kick you out when I'm not even here?"

"What?" Isaac asked, looking up again to find the other bed empty. "What the hell? I'm finally losing it."

"You're gonna lose a lot more if you sit here and do nothing," Derek warned. Or not-Derek. Isaac wasn't sure anymore.

"Why do you care? You left me."

"But I'm here now."

"You just said you weren't here," Isaac pointed out. Derek just shrugged in response. "My head hurts."

"Which is why you have to do something."

"Like what?"

"Figure it out," Derek sighed in annoyance. Even a figment of Isaac's own imagination didn't seem to like him.

"I don't know," Isaac mumbled, feeling his fatigue drag him down again. Maybe he'd know what to do after he got some sleep.

"Stay awake, Isaac!" Derek snapped.

"Why?" Isaac groaned.

"So housekeeping doesn't have to come in later and find your rotting corpse."

"I'm not dying."

"Are you sure about that?" Derek argued, jerking his chin in Isaac's direction. "Do you even realize you're still bleeding?"

"Shit," Isaac muttered, poking at his hairline. He hissed when he came into contact with the weeping cut. It must've come from his dad slamming his head into the wall. Screw his life.

"Yeah. You might want to take care of that."

"How?"

"Do I have to figure out everything for you?" Derek grumbled, gesturing to the phone sitting on the table between the beds. He had been trying to call for help earlier, before his dad broke his phone. But that was during the fight. It was over now and Isaac was safe. What if anyone he called told him to deal with his problems himself? The danger was gone.

"I don't know any numbers."

"Yes, you do. I know you're lying because I'm a figment of your imagination." Not even Isaac's own imagination could be nice to him.

"Not yours." Not-Derek somehow looked flustered at that statement, which didn't make sense. Would the real Derek even come if he called? Had he already moved on and found someone more suitable for his pack? Was Isaac just a distant memory now?

"You have someone better to call. Now stop being a stubborn idiot and do it!" Derek demanded. Isaac's hand reached out without thought, grabbing the phone off the receiver. He was conditioned to follow a direct order, even if this one came from his own rattled brain. Isaac jabbed his fingers into the buttons, hoping he was getting the number right. His bad luck with cell phones had gotten him into the habit of trying to memorize his more important contacts, as few as those were. He really needed to know this one right now.

"Hello?" Isaac almost dropped the phone in relief at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. At least something had gone right.

"Scott."

"Isaac? What number are you calling from?" Scott asked. Isaac could hear shuffling sounds in the background. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Isaac sniffled, suddenly feeling very guilty. This was all his fault. "I should've listened to you."

"What happened?"

"I knew it would happen, but I didn't think it would be this bad."

"Isaac, you're scaring me. Tell me what's going on."

"I'm scared all the time too."

"Where are you? Are you home?"

"Can't go back there."

"Mom, I need to borrow the car!"

"My head hurts."

"Isaac, tell me where you are. I can come get you."

"Derek got rid of me, but he told me to call."

"Is he with you? Can you put him on the phone?"

"No more Derek. Just me."

"Help me out here. Just tell me where you are."

"It wasn't so bad here before. I wish I could've stayed."

"Hold on, okay? I'm coming."

"Isaac?"

"Isaac!"