"He needs another cool rag," Stiles mumbled, fingering the one that was laying across Isaac's forehead. It had only been an hour since Stiles and Scott had shown up to the motel, but things had taken a turn for the worse. Isaac wasn't throwing up anymore, but he also wasn't lucid, fully caught in the throes of a high fever. He honestly looked awful and it was kind of freaking Derek out. But he wasn't going to admit that he was relieved Scott and Stiles were there.

"On it," Scott volunteered, darting off to the bathroom to get what Isaac needed. The two of them had been working well together, while Derek stood back and watched. His lack of experience with normal human illness was really showing right now. Cuts and broken bones he could handle, but this was different.

"C-cold," Isaac whispered through chattering teeth.

"I know pal, but your temperature is actually really high. It just feels like you're cold," Stiles sighed, switching the towels as soon as Scott brought the new one. Isaac started shivering even harder, letting out a low moan.

"Cold."

"I know."

"Should we take him to a hospital?" Scott wondered, wringing his hands at the end of the bed.

"No," Derek growled. The second a member of the staff figured out who they were treating, it would all be over.

"We may not have a choice," Scott argued.

"He was fine before you got here," Derek shot back. That wasn't entirely true, but Isaac had been awake enough to be snarky, and if you had the energy to be a dick, you were fine.

"You still haven't even told us what he's doing here. Or what's going on," Stiles reminded him.

"Does it matter?"

"Look at the optics, dude. I know you live your life in weird, but this is a whole nother level," Stiles snorted, carefully backing away as Isaac fell into a fitful sleep. They had to take advantage of the short reprieve while they had it. "A kid goes missing and he just so happens to be with you? And for some reason he thinks my dad is going to kill him?"

"He doesn't think your dad is going to kill him."

"Right after Ian found out my dad was the sheriff, he said I can't tell him where he is or he'll kill him. What else could he have meant?"

"Dude, it's Isaac," Scott huffed.

"Whatever!" Stiles waved away. "Things were finally calming down in this town and you go and do this? I'm starting to think you like the chaos."

"Isaac wasn't talking about your father killing him."

"Then who was he talking about?"

"It's none of your business."

"It becomes my business when the guy passes out in my arms!"

"No one even asked you to be here. You stuck your nose into something that didn't concern you, again. And once Isaac is better, you're going to leave and keep your mouths shut, or I'll-"

"Do something violent. Right," Stiles smirked, crossing his arms. "I should tell you to go screw yourself and call my dad anyway."

"No, no, no," Isaac mumbled, tossing his head from side to side on his pillow weakly.

"No one is going to call anyone," Scott assured him, glaring at both of them. "And no one is going to hurt you."

"Too late for that, judging by his face," Stiles muttered, gesturing to the bruises that still colored Isaac's skin. "Did your new pal not come quietly? Didn't appreciate these stunning accommodations?"

"I didn't hit him," Derek growled.

"Well, someone did. And I don't see anyone else around."

"That doesn't mean it was me!"

"Stop, please," Isaac whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. Derek shot a scathing look at Stiles, blaming him for upsetting Isaac. Derek may have been the one who raised his voice, but he wouldn't have if it weren't for Stiles. If the kid would just shut up and play nursemaid, this would go a lot smoother.

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you anymore," Stiles insisted, walking back to Isaac's bedside. "We'll protect you." Stiles set his hand on Isaac's leg and the boy jerked violently, letting out a pitiful whine.

"Dad, no. I'm sorry." Stiles snatched his hand back like it had been burned. Derek grit his teeth as Stiles and Scott looked up at him, knowing the cat was out of the bag.

"Shit," Stiles muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Is that who did this to him?" Scott whispered, sounding horrified. It struck him how innocent Stiles and Scott still were, even after anything. Werewolf stuff was old news to them at this point, but the ugliness of the world could still surprise them. Derek couldn't even remember what it was like to not assume the worst in people.

"The bruising, yeah," Derek sighed, stepping closer to Isaac's bed. The boy was shifting around restlessly, mumbling under his breath every few seconds. It was mostly nonsense, but a few pleas to not be hurt slipped through every now and then. He didn't know what to do, but he couldn't watch Isaac struggle like this on his own. Derek sat down on the edge of the bed, before carefully setting his hand on the back of Isaac's neck.

"No," Isaac moaned, trying to get away from the touch. Derek kept his hold light, but didn't let him go, kneading his fingers in a way that he hoped felt somewhat pleasant. He was trying to remember how his mom would comfort him, but those memories were so hazy.

"Isaac, you're safe. Your dad isn't here," Derek said quietly. Isaac's breath hitched at the mention of his father. "It's just you and me here. Derek, the creepy kidnapper." Stiles choked on a snort across the room, but Derek ignored him.

"Derek?" Isaac groaned, forcing his bleary eyes to open.

"I guess you were right about those noodles." Isaac just moaned in response. "You okay?"

"No."

"Yeah, I know," Derek sighed.

"I'm sorry," Isaac sniffled, rubbing his face on the pillow underneath his head.

"What are you sorry about? You didn't do anything wrong." Derek swung his legs up onto the bed, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Being next to Isaac seemed to be doing him some good, so he'd stay for as long as he had to.

"Sick."

"Not your fault."

"Burden."

"Quit that nonsense."

"Tired."

"So take a nap. You're overdue."

"Asshole," Isaac scoffed, turning over and practically flopping onto Derek's lap. Isaac's cheek was pressed against his thigh and one arm was curled around his knee as if he was clutching a teddy bear. Derek was about to flip him back over, but Isaac seemed to already be asleep again. And his breaths were coming out a lot more easily than they had before. This wasn't exactly the worst spot to be in.

"Derek-"

"Not a word," Derek warned, glaring up at Stiles. He didn't need any commentary right now.

"That's fine, since we're the ones who want the words. From you. Like, telling us what the hell is going on!" Stiles hissed. "I'm pretty sure if I ever tried to cuddle with you, you'd claw my face off."

"True."

"Do you know him? Is he family or something?" Scott asked.

"No."

"Did you 'blank' him? Is he a 'blank?'" Stiles wondered.

"Dude!" Scott exclaimed.

"I meant the W word! Get your mind out of the gutter," Stiles huffed, slapping Scott on the arm.

"He knows about werewolves, but he isn't one," Derek grunted.

"Are you sure? Because you're petting his head like he's your pup," Stiles pointed out, gesturing to Derek's lap. He hadn't realized he started running his fingers through Isaac's hair to help soothe him. Derek was just trying to keep his hands busy.

"I offered him the bite and he said no."

"But why? Who is he?" Scott asked.

"It's a long story," Derek sighed, finally giving up. If it would shut them up, he might as well tell them what was going on. He explained meeting Isaac in the cemetery, then following him to make sure he didn't tell anyone about what happened. He glossed over the condition he found Isaac in, but it didn't take a genius to fill in the blanks. Isaac and his dad lived alone and he'd gone into his house without bruises, and came out with them. "I took him out of his house and brought him here. It was going fine until he ate a batch of bad food."

"So, what was your plan?"

"What?"

"What were you going to do with him?" Stiles clarified. "You took him out of a bad situation, which is unusually caring for you, but then what? Were you planning on just keeping a teenager?"

"I don't know. I just-"

"I think it's sweet," Scott said softly. Stiles was staring at him incredulously. "I get acting without thinking, when it's to protect someone. You did some pretty dangerous things when it came to keeping Lydia safe."

"Because I'm like, in love with her. Are you saying Derek-"

"And you'd do it for me too," Scott said quickly, cutting Stiles off before he could go into that particular subject. Derek didn't need anyone to think something inappropriate was going on between him and Isaac.

"None of that matters right now anyway. He's too sick and what we're doing isn't enough," Stiles declared, rubbing his chin. "What's his temperature?"

"How would I know? Do I look like I have a thermometer?" Derek scoffed. Like it was in the kitchen cabinet, right next to his whisk.

"I don't know why I bothered," Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well, you need supplies if you're determined to keep Isaiah out of the hospital."

"Stiles. Why is it so hard for you to remember that his name is Isaac?"

"I don't know, man. At least I got the first letter," Stiles shrugged.

"I know my mom has a bunch of useful stuff in her first aid kit," Scott offered.

"And I've got some stuff from the last time I was sick. Pedialyte, Gatorade, crackers," Stiles listed, looking around the room. "Some air fresheners."

"You can't let anyone know what you're doing," Derek warned, looking pointedly at Stiles. If his dad found out what he was doing, Isaac was screwed and Derek was probably going to end up in jail. Part of him wanted to scoop Isaac up the second they left and take him away, but it would probably do more harm than good in his condition. How far would they have to go to be safe from getting found out? The motel wasn't the best, but it had worked so far. Staying put until Isaac was at least his normal color again was probably the best idea.

"What do we look like, amateurs? This is child's play," Stiles scoffed.

"Right," Derek deadpanned. The whole reason Scott was the way he was now was because he and Stiles were idiots.

"We'll be careful," Scott promised, pulling Stiles by the arm to the door before either of them could say anything in response. Derek sighed, settling in for the long wait. He hoped Isaac would stay asleep until they came back, since he was a lot easier to deal with this way. Although he did kind of miss the mouthy teen he'd come to know. Derek didn't want to admit that he'd bonded to the kid in a way he didn't think he was capable of anymore. If he never saw Stiles or Scott again, he would be fine. Rejoice even, since they brought nothing but chaos. But Isaac had wormed his way into Derek's brain from the second he spoke to him in that graveyard. There was nothing that was going to take the kid away from him. Once Isaac was better, they were going to leave Beacon Hills.