"Were there people here earlier or did I just imagine that?" Derek was pulled out of his doze by the sound of Isaac's voice. It was scratchy and sounded like hell, but it was more than he'd said in a while, so it felt like progress.

"Unfortunately, it was real. But they aren't going to talk," Derek replied, removing his hand from Isaac's hair. It felt too awkward now that he was awake. "How you feeling?"

"Like death," Isaac croaked, slowly rolling himself onto his back so he wasn't sprawled across Derek's lap anymore. "I feel like this room smells."

"You're lucky you don't have my werewolf senses," Derek huffed. Luckily he'd gone mostly nose blind to it all by this point, but earlier it was a bit of a struggle keeping his stomach calm. Human sickness was a burden he didn't envy.

"I'm sorry. I should clean up," Isaac mumbled, trying to pull himself up off the bed. Derek pressed down on his shoulder with barely any strength, but it was enough to stop Isaac in his tracks.

"Don't be an idiot. The only thing you're going to do is lay there, until I say otherwise."

"But-"

"No arguments," Derek said firmly, staring down at Isaac until he admitted defeat and settled his head back down on the pillow.

"You sure you don't have kids? Because you've got the parent glare down pat," Isaac snorted, rubbing his stomach. "Although, I appreciate that you don't follow yours up with a punch." It was probably the illness that distracted Isaac from being embarrassed by what he said. Even when he was being flippant about his father, Derek could smell the shame wafting off of him. The simmering fever must've made his lips a bit more loose.

"I wouldn't even know where to start when it comes to kids," Derek smirked. Brother or cousin, he could handle. Maybe even uncle. But being a dad definitely wasn't in the cards for him.

"You're not doing so bad at it," Isaac mumbled, closing his eyes as his current burst of energy petered off. Derek was glad that Isaac couldn't see the mixture of emotions that he couldn't prevent from flashing across his face. It was ridiculous to think that hearing that from someone who was barely his junior meant anything, but it did. After feeling like an absolute failure in so many ways, for so many years, it was nice to hear that he wasn't complete shit at something. And maybe it was just the fever talking and Isaac would never say it if he was in his right mind, but Derek wouldn't forget hearing the words.

The sound of knocking on the motel door shook him out of his inner thoughts and a growl burst out of his chest. Isaac startled awake, looking panicked. Derek thought he would've been scared waking up next to something more than human, but Isaac grabbed his arm as his fears were focused on whoever was on the other side of the door.

"No, you gotta use the secret knock!" Derek relaxed at the sound of Stiles' voice.

"You talked about the secret knock with me, not Derek!" Scott hissed.

"Don't say his name!" Stiles admonished. Derek slid off the bed and walked over to the door, needing to stop the two idiots before their bickering caught anyone's attention. He threw the door open, scaring them both.

"Get in here and shut up," Derek growled, moving to the side to give them room. He looked around the parking lot, checking to make sure nothing looked off.

"Oh hey, you're awake. Good to see you again…"

"Isaac," Scott whispered.

"Isaac," Stiles said brightly.

"Do I know you?" Isaac asked in confusion, trying to raise up onto his elbows so he wasn't flat on his back.

"See, it's not just me," Stiles laughed, bumping Scott with his shoulder.

"We're on the lacrosse team too," Scott informed him with a friendly smile.

"Oh."

"And we're friends with Derek."

"Really?" Isaac and Stiles asked at the same time. Derek rolled his eyes, snatching one of the bags from Stiles' hands.

"What did you bring?" Derek asked, setting the bag down on the bed and rummaging through it.

"Rude," Stiles scoffed, placing the other bag he brought next to the microwave.

"I've got some medicine that's good for fevers. And a thermometer," Scott announced, holding up the items in triumph. "Don't worry, it's the ear kind."

"What other kinds are there?" Derek asked.

"You don't want to know," Stiles giggled, grabbing a can from his bag and spraying it around the room.

"What the hell is that?" Derek exclaimed, immediately falling into a sneezing fit. It felt like someone was shooting fire up his nostrils.

"It's bathroom spray. I'm trying to make this place inhabitable."

"You're making it worse!" Derek snarled, snatching the can away and tossing it into the corner. Stiles was lucky he didn't knock him over the head with it.

"Isaac, are you okay?" Scott asked warily. Derek looked over toward the bed, finding a green tinged Isaac covering his mouth.

"Shit!"

"Oops," Stiles said sheepishly. Derek rushed over, grabbing the little garbage can by the bed and shoving it under Isaac's chin just as he started gagging. "I didn't mean to do that."

"It's okay," Scott sighed. Derek wasn't sure where he got the right to claim that, seeing as neither of them were in the splash zone.

"I'm gonna kill you, Stiles," Derek growled, rubbing Isaac's back as he convulsed again.

"I brought you chocolate," Stiles said weakly.

"How nice. I heard it pairs well with puke," Derek sneered. Isaac let out a snort of laughter, before groaning again.

"Here," Scott said, offering a bottle of water. Isaac took it after a bit of hesitation, nodding his thanks. He tried to open it, but his hands were shaking too much for him to get a grip on the lid. Derek eased it out of his weak grasp, opening it for him without comment. He would be mortified at all of these people fussing over him, so he wasn't going to make it into a big deal. Isaac took a tiny sip of water and swished it around his mouth before spitting it into the garbage. His next sip was even smaller, but he swallowed this time, bracing himself in case it made a reappearance. When a minute passed without issue, he sagged in relief.

"Take this," Derek muttered, shoving the garbage at Scott. He cringed, passing it to Stiles.

"Why me?" Stiles whined, holding the can out like it was going to attack.

"It was kind of your fault, dude," Scott shrugged. "Just take it into the bathroom and rinse it out." Stiles glared at him, but went off to do it anyway, muttering under his breath about this being the thanks he got for helping.

"Sorry," Isaac whispered, tipping his head back to rest against the wall.

"It's fine," Scott waved off, just as Stiles gagged violently in the bathroom. "Stiles?"

"I'm good!" Stiles called back, stifling another gag.

"Hold still," Scott instructed, leaning toward Isaac with something in his hand. Isaac jerked back, knocking his head against Derek's.

"Scott!" Derek admonished, smacking his hand away.

"Sorry! I guess I'm used to doing this at work and not having to tell the patients what I'm doing," Scott winced, looking contrite.

"Just give it to me," Derek grunted, snatching the thing out of his hand. "How does this work?"

"You just put it in his ear and push the button. When it beeps, you have the results," Scott explained.

"Do we really need to do this? Does the number really matter?" Isaac mumbled, cringing away from Derek.

"I don't know. Just sit still and let me do it," Derek grumbled, staring him down until he complied. Maybe he did have the parent glare thing down. He stuck the end of the device in Isaac's ear and pushed the button, glaring as the number on the display rose higher. Derek didn't remember what an acceptable number for typical humans was from biology class, but he was pretty sure triple digits wasn't the best. "103.2."

"Um, okay. That's okay. Not great, but not terrible," Scott stammered, trying to look casual.

"Wow, thanks Dr. McCall. How much do we owe you?" Derek sneered. He didn't see how any of that was helpful at all.

"You're probably not in any danger of your brain cooking inside of your body, but we should probably try to lower your temp a little bit," Stiles said, striding out of the bathroom like he hadn't a care in the world. Like he hadn't been holding back his own puke while cleaning Isaac's. He tossed the garbage back beside the bed and walked over to his bag. "What flavor of Gatorade do you prefer? Yellow or blue?"

"Those aren't flavors, those are colors," Scott pointed out.

"Yeah, but nobody pays attention to the names. You'd have no idea what you were getting if I said mountain freeze or icy glacier," Stiles laughed.

"I don't know," Isaac mumbled.

"Let's go blue. Blue is always best," Stiles determined with a nod. He tossed the bottle to Scott who caught it with ease. Derek felt Isaac jerk beside him, but he didn't think anyone else noticed. They needed to cool it with the sudden movements.

"No, I mean, I'm not sure I can keep it down," Isaac admitted, turning red in embarrassment.

"Think you could try? You really don't want to get dehydrated and it would help your fever if you could take some medicine," Scott said, holding out the drink and pill bottle. At least he wasn't shoving the medicine into Isaac's mouth and rubbing his throat like a dog.

"Get the bucket, I guess," Isaac sighed, reluctantly accepting what Scott was handing him. "How many do I take?"

"Two, I think. How many do you usually take when you get sick?" Scott asked.

"I don't," Isaac muttered, struggling with the safety lid on the bottle. Derek grabbed it from him, cracking the top completely off.

"Nice one, Rambo," Stiles snorted. "I guess they didn't take werewolf children into account when developing those things." Isaac's head snapped up and he looked around at everyone in shock.

"You- are you-"

"Team human here," Stiles said brightly, raising his hand.

"Team not so human here," Scott said with a grimace.

"What the hell?"

"It's a long story," Derek sighed.

"Have you all done this before?"

"No, I can guarantee that this thing you've got going on with Derek is new. Derek doesn't like anybody," Stiles laughed.

"And you're at the bottom of my list," Derek growled.

"You wound me."

"It would be really great if you could not say anything about that to anyone," Scott winced.

"I'm really good at keeping secrets," Isaac whispered. No one said anything to that, since they all knew what he was talking about. He choked down two pills with the smallest sip of Gatorade possible and they all stared at him, waiting to see if anything would happen. Isaac started squirming under their gazes, but Derek didn't know what else to do. He wasn't really a conversationalist.

"So, what was the name of the place you got these famed noodles?" Stiles asked out of the blue. "I wanna make sure I avoid it forever."

"Dragon something. I don't know. There aren't a lot of options for places that deliver here."

"I should go there to get you guys some retribution," Stiles muttered, grinding his fist into his palm. "Make sure they know that they need to up their standards."

"And how would you do that? Is that fist supposed to be threatening?" Derek snorted.

"Hey, I'm tough! And very strong."

"You couldn't win in a fight against your own reflection."

"That's dumb! You can't fight a reflection. And I so could," Stiles argued, bouncing on the balls of his feet and shadowboxing. His form was so bad that Derek couldn't stand watching for long.

"You aren't even balling your fists right," Derek huffed, forcing himself up off the bed and walking over to him.

"You don't even fight with fists, you fight with claws. How would you know?" Stiles shot back.

"Common sense?" Derek deadpanned, grabbing Stiles' hand and moving his fingers into the proper position.

"Oh. Yeah, that feels better."

"And you have to hold your hands higher, to defend your head."

"Who needs to worry about defense when you've got these guns?" Stiles scoffed.

"If you ever find yourself in the position of having to fight, your best bet is to get your opponent down so you can run," Derek informed him, saying it more for Isaac's sake than Stiles'. If Stiles wanted to get a beatdown, that was his problem. But if Isaac was ever unlucky enough to be in his father's presence again, he needed to know what to do.

"And how would I do that, Sensei?"

"You aim for the weak spots," Derek grinned, sweeping his legs out from under him and sending him to his back in a heap.

"Dude!" Scott shouted, rushing over to help his friend up.

"I'm fine," Stiles grumbled, patting Scott on the back once he was upright. "I'm tagging out for the next lesson though, so you're up."

"What?"

"This stuff might be important the next time we're being chased around the empty school by a crazy werewolf."

"The next time what?" Isaac asked incredulously.

"I know, right?" Stiles laughed, flopping down on the empty bed. Hearing that definitely wasn't going to convince Isaac to say yes to the bite. "Back to the lesson."

"I don't remember signing up for this," Scott whined. Derek smirked and took a swing at him, but Scott ducked out of the way. He wasn't really the type for playing around, unless it was truly for training, but getting out some pent up energy didn't feel like the worst idea. He'd been cooped up in this room for so long.

"Doesn't Stiles always get you into bad situations?" Derek wondered, raising his eyebrows.

"That's not true. Evan, don't listen to him," Stiles scoffed.

"Who?"

"Now I just think he's doing it on purpose," Scott sighed.

"We're gonna pretend Scott is an equal opponent to me-"

"Hey!"

"And that I don't want to fight him," Derek continued, rolling his eyes at Scott. They both knew it wasn't a fair fight. "My best bet is to get him down and prevent him from following after me."

"Assuming I'm not a werewolf?"

"If I'm fighting a werewolf, I'm aiming for just this side of lethal. A human is a lot weaker. A well aimed hit is usually all you need."

"So where should I aim? I bet you fight dirty," Stiles smirked.

"There is no such thing as fighting dirty when you're trying to survive. You don't get gentleman points in the end. You do what you have to do," Derek said firmly. He waited until Scott was paying attention to him, then took a swing at his face. He dodged it easily, but hadn't been expecting Derek's foot aimed at the inside of his knee. Derek stopped before he could do any real damage, but Scott still buckled a little, not prepared for the strike.

"Dude, he totally got you!" Stiles exclaimed, flapping his hands toward Scott's legs.

"Shut up!" Scott grumbled, waving at Derek. "Let's go again. I'm ready this time." Derek smirked, looking forward to knocking Scott around a bit. In the name of teaching, of course.

He wasn't sure how long it went on, but it was fully dark by the time Scott decided he was finished. Derek hadn't even broken a sweat. Isaac had fallen asleep a while back, but Derek had seen him watching what he was doing. He hoped the boy would never have to use any of the moves, but it was better to be prepared for anything.

"We gotta go, but we'll be back tomorrow," Scott said, slipping his jacket back on.

"Why?" Derek asked. They had enough supplies for now.

"Because we want to," Scott shrugged. Derek stared at him in confusion, before deciding he didn't really care. If Scott and Stiles wanted to spend their nights in a dingy motel that smelled like puke, that was their choice. As long as they didn't draw any unwanted attention.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier, but my dad said there weren't any leads," Stiles said quietly, glancing back to where Isaac was still sleeping. "The state police guys are heading the investigation and search, but my dad is still involved."

"Does he know why they're here? This isn't exactly the first time a kid has gone missing in this town, so why all the extra attention?"

"He doesn't know," Stiles sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe we should tell him what's going on."

"No," Derek growled.

"But my dad could help! He already thinks there's something going on between Isaac and his dad."

"Hey, you remembered his name."

"That is not your decision to make!" Derek snapped. Stiles may be optimistic and believe everything would work in the end, but Derek was realistic. There was always a risk and Isaac had to be the one to decide it was worth it to try. "You cannot say anything."

"Alright!" Stiles reluctantly agreed. "But at least talk to Isaac about it. I know you haven't had the best experience with my dad, but you know he's a good guy. You can trust him." Trust him to throw Derek in jail.

"Fine."

"Can I have your number?"

"No."

"But-"

"Goodbye Stiles," Derek grunted, opening the door and shoving them both outside. Stiles opened his mouth to argue some more, but Derek shut the door in his face. He wanted to go to sleep so he could be done with this day. Hopefully by morning, Isaac would be feeling better and they could start talking seriously about getting out of this town, before it was too late.

Of course, nothing ever really seemed to go to plan.

Derek rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom to relieve himself. It was still early, but Derek couldn't stay asleep for some reason. Isaac had barely moved all night, finally getting the rest he needed, but Derek's body kept waking him up. If he'd somehow gotten what Isaac was dealing with, he'd go to that restaurant himself and rip it apart.

Derek shuffled back to his bed, glancing over at Isaac's sleeping body. The boy had rolled over onto his side, facing away from him. The room still had the smell of sickness caked into every corner, with the burn of artificial spray clinging on top. That was probably why Derek couldn't relax. He ached to go out into the preserve to breathe in the fresh air. But he couldn't leave Isaac.

Derek laid back down, trying to forget about all the things that were bothering him at the moment. But it wasn't working. As horrible of an idea as it was, he took a deep breath, trying to picture his mom guiding young werewolves to a state of calm. She always made it look so simple. But then again, she wasn't usually in a room that smelled like puke and… was that blood?

Derek shot out of the bed, practically vaulting over to the other side of the room. He flicked on the lamp, bathing the room in weak light. He didn't like what he saw.

"Isaac? Isaac, wake up!" Derek demanded, shaking the boy's shoulder. He had a small trickle of blood rolling out of his nose and his skin was paler than he remembered it being. What the hell was going on?

"What?" Isaac mumbled, before his head went limp against the pillow.

"Open your eyes!" Isaac mumbled some more under his breath, but wouldn't fully wake up. "Shit!" Derek raked a hand through his hair, not knowing what to do. Isaac had been fine earlier. Still sick and miserable, but fine. This didn't feel normal. And Derek couldn't stop the fear of thinking he was watching this kid slowly die. He had to do something.

Derek rushed over to where his jacket was tossed in the corner, rummaging through the pockets. He didn't want to do this and would probably regret this for the rest of his life, but he didn't see any other options. He pulled his phone out, dialing a number that he never planned on calling.

"Hello?"

"Stiles, I need your help."

"Derek? What- how-"

"There's something wrong with Isaac."