The next time Isaac woke up, it was to the sound of hushed whispers. He only had a second of panic before he recognized the voices, then his nerves settled. While being alone was ideal, this wasn't a bad alternative. Over the past few weeks, he'd gained a couple of people he could depend on. That was a nice feeling.

"Hey," Isaac mumbled, turning his head toward the voices without opening his eyes.

"Isaac! Are you awake?" Scott exclaimed.

"Dude, he just spoke. I think that's a pretty good sign that he's awake," Stiles scoffed. Despite the circumstances, Isaac couldn't help smiling a little. He liked being on the sidelines of their banter. Isaac preferred listening to talking, so he didn't mind when Stiles went on one of his tangents and Scott added his input whenever he could get a word in.

"I'm awake," Isaac confirmed, finally opening his eyes. He squinted at the bright lights, before Scott adjusted them to make them dimmer. He hummed in appreciation.

"How do you feel?" Scott asked, smoothing out one of the blankets to give his hands something to do.

"Like shit," Isaac grunted, answering honestly. The drugs were taking the edge off the pain, but it was still there. It was probably what woke him up, but he didn't want more to take him back under until he could at least find out how screwed he was now. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Scott asked, wincing at the thought. Maybe Isaac could claim amnesia and say he forgot the past few years of his life. If only that were true.

"I remember getting my ass kicked. Then ending up at the motel. I have no idea how I got here. Or what's wrong with me this time."

"Well, you're going to be okay. I want to make sure you know that right off the bat," Scott said quickly.

"Okay, good."

"Let's see, grade one concussion, four stitches at your hairline, a plethora of bruised and cracked ribs, and surgery to fix a tear in your spleen," Stiles listed off, standing at the end of the bed with a clipboard in his hand.

"Dude," Scott chastised.

"What? He deserves to know. No use dragging it out," Stiles said defensively.

"You didn't have to say it like that," Scott argued.

"It's fine," Isaac huffed, rolling his eyes. "No use trying to sugarcoat shit. It's still shit."

"I'm really sorry this happened," Scott said softly.

"It's my fault. I knew this was gonna happen eventually," Isaac admitted. No matter what his dad said or did, it was always gonna come back to this. The beatings weren't always this bad, but this had been built up after extraordinary circumstances. "He wanted me to tell him where I was. Obviously, I couldn't. It wouldn't have mattered if I told the truth though. He still would've been pissed."

"How did you get away?"

"Kicked him in the knee," Isaac replied with a smirk. He'd definitely be paying for that soon, but he didn't care. His dad would never forget the time Isaac fought back and got away. Isaac's win/loss record was abysmal, but he was still on the board. "Then I ran. Didn't know where I was going until I was back at that damn motel."

"You could've come to me. Or Stiles. You know that, right?"

"I do. But me after getting my head smashed into the wall apparently didn't." Scott winced at that. "Sorry."

"I'm glad you called me. If you hadn't…" Scott trailed off, looking a bit sick.

"That bad?"

"Internal bleeding is usually bad, yes," Stiles commented.

"I think that's a new one for me."

"Thank goodness I had my mom with me. I'm not sure what I would've done if she wasn't there."

"Shit," Isaac groaned. Obviously Scott's mom would know what happened to him, since she worked at the hospital. But he didn't like the idea that she'd seen him in that state. Too many people had seen Isaac vulnerable and that was hard to accept, after so many years of hiding the truth. "So, she knows?"

"Not the details, but yeah. She figured it out."

"My dad is gonna kill me," Isaac muttered. Stiles and Scott exchanged quick looks that told Isaac he was missing something. "What is it?"

"So, there's something we haven't told you," Scott started hesitantly.

"I called Derek!" Stiles blurted out, fidgeting where he stood. "He told me before that he left town, but I figured he needed to know what happened."

"He was here, the last time I woke up," Isaac sighed, flashing back to what he thought had been a hallucination. He hadn't really let Derek get a word in edgewise, if he was even planning on saying anything meaningful. Isaac probably wouldn't have believed it either way. "I yelled at him to leave."

"So that's why I saw him sneaking out of the hospital like a kicked puppy earlier," Stiles nodded.

"I can't let him back into my life. Not so he can decide it's too hard again and send me back to my dad." Scott and Stiles shared another look and it was putting Isaac on edge. "Just tell me whatever it is that you guys are hiding."

"You tell him," Scott mumbled, flicking his eyes at Stiles before staring down at his lap.

"So, when Derek got to the hospital, he wasn't alone," Stiles said, looking unusually uneasy.

"Okay?" Isaac pressed, wanting the band aid ripped off. If Stiles had no problem listing off his injuries, this must be bad. Maybe Derek had found a pack? That wouldn't be so bad, in Isaac's opinion. Unless they decided to stay in town. That had the potential to be awkward.

"He was with your dad." Of all the things Isaac expected to hear, that hadn't even been on the list. His brain immediately went to the worst case scenarios, no matter how outlandish they were. Was this all planned out? Had Derek and his dad been working together this whole time, just to torment him? Did Derek meet his dad after everything, but was convinced that Isaac deserved all the pain he'd been given? Would Scott and Stiles turn on him too?

"Isaac, breathe," Scott said in his ear suddenly, cupping Isaac's face between his hands. "If you freak out, they'll kick us out of the room."

"What? What?" Isaac choked out, sucking in a harsh breath when he felt his chest start to burn. He jerked away from Scott's grasp, wishing he could jump out of the bed and run away. "Why? Why was he with him?"

"Well-"

"Did he turn my dad into a werewolf?" The thought of his dad being that much stronger made Isaac want to throw up and die. He'd never survive that.

"No! Of course not!" Scott denied vehemently.

"Then what?"

"Derek beat the crap out of him!" Stiles whisper-yelled. Isaac's jaw dropped a little in shock. Stiles walked around to the side of the bed, crouching down next to Scott. "The official story is that your dad got into an accident."

"No one is going to believe that. I'll probably get blamed for this. My dad will definitely point the finger at me."

"Your dad is the one who said it was an accident. And that he needed to confess to a crime," Stiles said, raising his eyebrows. "Now, I don't know your dad, but unless he's the type to commit a lot of crimes, I think we can guess what he was talking about."

"He wouldn't do that. Why would he do that?"

"I'm assuming it's the result of some very powerful persuasion, if you know what I mean."

"The orderlies took your dad away before he said anything else. And Derek wouldn't talk to us while we were in the waiting room," Scott said.

"I texted my dad what was up, but he hasn't told me anything yet. He probably couldn't take your dad's statement in his condition."

"His condition? Was it that bad?"

"They had to take him into surgery," Scott confirmed with a wince.

"I need to see him."

"What? Isaac-"

"I need to see him," Isaac repeated with more force. He had to see for himself.

"Dude, you just got out of surgery yourself. I don't think you should be going anywhere."

"Scott, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with my legs," Isaac argued. He'd run from his house to the motel while he was actively dying. Now that he was fixed, it would be fine.

"But-"

"You have a catheter in," Stiles said bluntly.

"Shit," Isaac groaned, closing his eyes in resignation. That was a problem. "Either of you know how to take it out?"

"We might be bros now, but we're not that close," Stiles snorted.

"I just- I need to see him. I can't explain it, but I do," Isaac said imploringly. He hated depending on anyone, but he needed their help. Scott and Stiles looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Stiles seemed more willing to break some rules, but Scott was more wary.

"Wheelchair?" Stiles proposed. Isaac hated the thought of looking weak like that in front of his father, but it was probably his only option. And the possibility of tripping and falling and ripping his catheter out was not one he wanted to entertain.

"Let's do it," Isaac agreed.

"If we get caught, I'm going to claim I was acting under duress," Scott warned, moving to the corner of the room to grab the wheelchair that was sitting there.

"I'll take all the blame," Isaac assured him, pushing back the covers that were laying on top of him. He was in one of those backless hospital gowns which wasn't ideal, but a blanket could protect his modesty. Scott helped him into the chair, while Stiles kept all the tubes and wires from getting tangled. Isaac was panting and shaky by the time he was settled. The surgery took more out of him than he realized.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You can always wait a little longer," Scott offered.

"No, I can do this," Isaac said in determination. He never thought he'd be able to escape his dad during one of his rampages, but he had. This was no big deal. Just confronting the man who'd made his life a living hell for years.

"Here we go," Stiles mumbled, peeking his head out the door to check if the coast was clear. After a few seconds, he waved them forward. Scott pushed Isaac along in the wheelchair, trying to look casual. Probably too casual, but Isaac appreciated the effort.

"Do you know where he is?" Isaac asked quietly.

"I have a few ideas," Scott replied, pointing Stiles toward a hallway. Thank goodness Scott knew his way around the place. Before these past few weeks, Isaac was fortunate to only have experience in the family medicine section, besides a few sporadic trips to the emergency room. Of course it was only because lacrosse was so dangerous. Even in the off season.

They searched for a few more minutes before Stiles stopped outside of one of the rooms and immediately blanched. He didn't have to say anything for Isaac to know they'd found his father. His confidence in his decision started to wane now that he'd reached his goal. Was this a mistake? Should he turn around and forget this ever happened?

"You ready?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Isaac replied quickly. He couldn't let his nerves get the better of him. Stiles silently opened the door, letting Scott push him into the room. The second Isaac saw his father, he gasped. This wasn't what he'd been expecting.

When you were tormented by a bully for years, they became larger than life in your head. Some big obstacle that was insurmountable. But right now, his dad was broken. And he looked smaller than Isaac could ever remember him looking. This was his monster?

"You okay?" Scott whispered, setting a hand on his shoulder. Isaac nodded blankly, unable to force out the words. Scott parked him beside the bed, but not close enough to touch. It wasn't like Isaac was going to hold his dad's hand, especially with the state they were in.

"Do you want me to…" Stiles trailed off, gesturing to the clipboard at the end of the bed. Isaac nodded again, bracing himself for the details. "Concussion, fractured jaw, broken cheekbone, multiple broken ribs, torn meniscus, a few missing teeth, dozens of stitches."

"Holy crap," Scott mumbled.

"Should I keep going?"

"Yes," Isaac insisted.

"There are a lot of notes in here about his hands. Stuff about reconstructive surgery, extensive rehab, and loss of function." That explained the weird cages his hands were in, keeping them completely immobile.

"Wow," Isaac whispered. The things that had caused him so much harm were possibly broken beyond repair. Would they ever be able to shove him into a freezer again? Or throw things at him? Or mark his skin? "Wow."

"Are you okay? Do you want to go back to your room?" Scott asked.

"Do you think you could give me a minute?" Isaac felt like he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown and he didn't particularly want an audience for it. He was caught between feeling horrified by the state of his father and vindictively satisfied by it. It was confusing and overwhelming and everything he couldn't quite define.

"I don't-"

"We'll be right outside," Stiles said, dragging a reluctant Scott to the door. As soon as it closed behind them, Isaac let out the shaky breath he'd been holding. What was this going to mean for him? If that confession that was mentioned didn't pan out, would Isaac be expected to be his father's caretaker for the rest of his life? Had Derek sentenced him to a life of verbal abuse, instead of physical? And if he did go to prison, where would Isaac go? He didn't have resources or family. Once again, his life was thrown into turmoil by Derek Hale.

A soft noise from the bed snapped Isaac out of his musings. He looked up, watching as his dad started shifting around slightly. Isaac wasn't ready for his dad to be awake, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even call out for Scott to take him away. Isaac just sat in silence as his dad slowly blinked open his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It took a few seconds for his dad to realize someone else was in the room, before he turned his head in what looked like a painful move.

"Isaac?" he slurred, staring at him with a pitiful gaze. And it was like all the misguided sympathy in Isaac's body instantly dried up. He didn't feel anything for the man who was lying broken in front of him. He didn't deserve it.

"Why?"

"What?" he mumbled, looking confused.

"All these years, why? Why did you do it?" Isaac pressed, keeping his voice even. He was not going to let this man see another tear from him. "What was so bad about me? Why couldn't you love me?"

"Son-"

"Don't call me that! Don't you dare!" Isaac hissed, gripping the arms of his wheelchair. "A real father wouldn't treat his son the way you have."

"It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" Isaac scoffed, shaking his head incredulously. "Years of beatings and yelling and locking me up was a mistake?"

"After your mom and-and Cam-"

"I lost them too! Can't you see that? We're all that's left and instead of supporting each other, you turn on me? Why?" Isaac needed to hear a real reason. A real justification as to why he deserved everything he'd been put through. "Tell me why."

"I don't know." Isaac deflated, staring at his father in complete apathy. He knew he'd never get what he needed from this man. Even being beaten half to death couldn't lead him to introspection. He was a lost cause and Isaac couldn't have him in his life anymore.

"We're never going to see each other again. You're going to confess to what you've done and let the courts decide what to do with you. I'm not your son and you're not my father. And if you ever try anything with me again, I'll finish what was started," Isaac said firmly, meaning every word he'd said. He was not going to be a victim again. Even if he ended up dying alone in a gutter, it was going to be his choice, no one else's.

Isaac painfully turned his chair around and rolled to the door, ignoring his dad's weak calls. It was too late for amends or forgiveness, if he even had the self-awareness to realize he should be begging for it. Never once had an apology crossed his lips.

The door opened before Isaac could reach it, revealing a stone faced Scott and Stiles. They probably heard everything, but Isaac didn't care. Scott wordlessly moved behind him, taking up his previous position and wheeling him back to his room. None of them said anything during the walk.

"Let's get you back into your bed," Scott said softly as he parked the wheelchair. Isaac closed his eyes and shook his head. He was mentally and physically exhausted and the thought of trying to lift himself back into the hospital bed was enough to tip him over the edge. Isaac bit the inside of his lip in embarrassment as he felt the tears streaming down his face. At least this hadn't happened in front of his father.

"It's okay. You can let it out. This is a safe space," Stiles said seriously. Isaac let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh, caught between the ridiculousness of it all. Scott's hand moved to rest supportively on his shoulder as Isaac let out everything he'd been holding back for years. Some of it had come out in the hotel with Derek, but these tears were signifying the true end to everything.