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It was Date Night. Not just date night, which would probably involve going out somewhere on an actual date. Isaac did that occasionally with Allison just to reassure everyone that there was something totally normal and obvious going on here.
Date Night--pronounced with capital letters and a waggle of eyebrows and a delighted look that Isaac had never really gotten right, although he could never mistake it on Allison's face or on Scott's--meant that all three of them got to be together with no one else around. It usually happened when Scott's mom was at work and Allison came over, having convinced her dad that Scott was enough of an awkward third wheel to keep the evening's activities strictly PG-rated. Date Nights were rare and precious, and all three of them knew that eventually their cover was going to get blown somehow and they wouldn't be left alone like this again until college without putting some major sneaking-around work into it.
Allison hadn't actually arrived yet, but Scott and Isaac were cooking. Scott was cooking, mostly, but Isaac was helping with all the things he knew how to help with. Setting the table, for instance: they were doing it up all proper and grownup for Date Night. Scott had all these ideas that Isaac and Allison liked to play along with about being civilized people and talking over a meal before they all got naked and tried to cram onto Scott's bed together. Isaac set out the dishes and silverware very neatly, automatically making sure that everything was perfectly aligned. He tried not to think too hard about how it had gotten to be a habit to make sure everything was arranged just so on the dinner table.
Scott said, "Here, catch," and Isaac looked up to see a glass arcing through the air, aimed at his head.
Isaac dropped into a crouch, covering his head as the glass shattered against the wall above him. He froze there, trying not to make a sound, trying to disappear. He was a little shielded by the table, but that wouldn't protect him--the back door was closest, he could maybe get to it before his dad came around, if--but no--this wasn't--
He was already uncurling to run when someone spoke: not his dad, thundering at him to clean up that mess, or Derek, coldly telling him to get out, but Scott, sounding worried. "Isaac?"
The panic didn't actually go away, just curdled into the horrible awareness that Scott knew. He knew, he had seen, and Isaac really did have to get out, right now.
This was so much worse than a beating, so much worse than being thrown away. He shot to his feet, stumbling backward toward the door. Even now he didn't dare turn his back. He had to see, even if what he was going to see was just Scott--and sure enough there was Scott's stricken face, but the front door was swinging open, too, and Allison's happy Date Night face was collapsing into bewilderment and worry, and that was it. Isaac couldn't look at both of them looking back at him. He turned on his heel and ran.
He knew better than to really bolt. Scott would chase him, and he couldn't bear that right now. Isaac dashed just as far as the big oak tree in the backyard and swarmed up it, tucking himself into a fork where he could fold himself into a little ball and be hidden in the shadows of the leaves.
Fuck, that had been stupid, he was so stupid. Of course Scott hadn't been throwing it at him, just to him, just to put on the table--he'd even said catch--and Isaac had just freaked out again like it was his dad, like Derek....
Exactly like Derek had done because Derek had known. Isaac had trusted him enough to tell him that story and all it meant in the end was Derek knew exactly where to twist the knife. And now Scott. Scott hadn't known but Isaac had shown it to him. He might as well have told; he might as well have put up a sign in big letters: I'm a fucking headcase, here's how to get to me.
And it all meant the same thing in the end, really. Derek had wanted to get rid of him, his dad had never wanted him, and Scott would... Scott and Allison both would be better off if he did just run, if he just kept on running and never came back. They would know that now. They would know about him and they wouldn't want him anymore--wouldn't want somebody who couldn't catch a fucking glass when it was just tossed at him, like--fuck, he was so stupid.
He should never have come to Scott. He should have just given up and lain down in that grave, should have let himself be locked in for good like his dad always threatened, should have just given up and died long before now. This time he would just--just go, as soon as they weren't watching anymore. They would get distracted, they would eat dinner and then go up to Scott's room without him. He would hear their two hearts beating together while his was still hammering away outside, and he would know it was time to go, just go and stay gone.
Isaac's frantic thoughts slowed, leaving a cold, miserable certainty in their wake. He slumped there in the tree awhile, becoming aware of the quiet of the evening around him, the roughness of the bark against his skin and the soft shushing of the leaves. He didn't have a scratch on him, but there was still sweat turning cold on his skin; werewolf healing didn't make evaporation happen any faster, apparently.
He realized that he could hear Scott and Allison's heartbeats, but they weren't together like he'd expected. Scott's was further away than it should be--outside, waiting by Allison's car, as if to intercept any escape attempts.
Allison was standing at the bottom of the tree.
"Scott says you're calming down a little now," she said softly, not bothering to raise her voice. "Can I come up there, or are you going to come down?"
Hearing her voice, gentle and patient, turned something in Isaac's brain ninety degrees. Of course she and Scott weren't going to go up to Scott's room and fuck without him. Of course they weren't going to dump him for being broken. They were better than that. Someday he would get to be too much for them, maybe, but tonight they were just worried about him. Isaac could hear that in the beats of their hearts, could smell the genuine concern on both of them. The last thread of Isaac's panic melted into embarrassment.
Isaac didn't say anything, just jumped down. He landed in a crouch at Allison's feet, and looked up at her uncertainly.
"Hey," she said softly, dropping to her knees to look him in the eye. "Hey, it's--well, it's not okay, exactly, but--we're here for you."
Isaac looked down, shaking his head. "It wasn't--it's okay, you guys don't have to--I overreacted, it was dumb. I'm fine. We should have dinner."
"No," Allison said. "It wasn't dumb, and you didn't overreact, and Scott is going to apologize in a minute, but first I want to know exactly what he did that we need to never do again, okay?"
Isaac closed his eyes. He didn't want to tell--it was such a stupid little thing....
No. He didn't want to tell because then they would know, and then the next time they did it it would be on purpose. Even if he understood why Derek had done it, even if he still wanted Derek to be part of the pack, Isaac could never trust him like he used to. He didn't want to lose his trust in Scott and Allison like that.
But if he didn't tell, he already didn't trust them, did he?
"I threw a glass," Scott said, his voice low but carrying enough even for Allison to hear. Isaac looked up to see that he'd come around the house and was standing at the far edge of the yard. His shoulders were hunched a little, his hands crammed into his pockets. "I'm sorry, Isaac. Was it the glass, especially, or just that I didn't warn you before I threw it?"
Isaac looked away from Scott to find that Allison was offering one hand, palm up, fingers slightly curled, just beside his hand. Not touching him, just waiting.
Isaac hooked one finger around hers and said quietly, "The glass made it worse, but anything could've--you didn't do anything wrong, Scott, it's just me. I just--I'm sorry--"
"No," Allison said firmly, tightening the finger that linked with his as emphatically as a bear hug. "Isaac, it's not your fault you reacted that way. It might not be exactly Scott's fault either, but--look. After sophomore year, after I got all...."
Allison trailed off, making a violent motion with her free hand, and Isaac found himself smiling a little as he suggested, "Stabby?"
She had already apologized for the knives; they could talk about that, at least.
"Out of control in general," Allison said, smiling back. "My dad sat me down one day and made me go over everything I'd done. He laid out every single separate law I'd broken, so I could really understand how badly I went off the rails. And one of those laws was assault. The technical definition of assault isn't hurting someone--that's battery."
Isaac flicked a glance at Scott and saw him moving slowly closer. He stopped when Isaac looked at him, but Isaac shook his head a little and Scott closed the distance, taking his hands from his pockets as he sat down beside Allison. She looked from Scott to Isaac and went on, still keeping just one finger linked with Isaac's.
"Assault is when you cause someone to fear that you're about to hurt them. I did that to you when I raised my knives, and Scott did that to you tonight when he threw the glass. People aren't allowed to hurt you, but making you think they're about to hurt you isn't okay, either. Even if Scott would never actually hurt you, even if he didn't mean to make you think that--it wasn't nothing, okay? You thought you were going to get hurt, and you tried to protect yourself."
Isaac looked away at that, thinking numbly that he hadn't actually done a very good job of that, either. He never had. Derek had made him indestructible, but he hadn't made Isaac any good at fighting back.
"People have hurt you who you should have been able to trust," Scott said seriously, and Isaac couldn't resist meeting his eyes. They glowed a little bit red, warm as coals. "Including us. It's no wonder you get scared when you think it's going to happen again. We want to be better than that for you. We want you to feel safe with us, but we can't help you feel safe if you won't tell us what scares you."
Isaac took his left hand out from where it was tucked between his chest and his thigh, uncurling his fingers as he offered his hand to Scott. Scott wrapped both his hands warmly around Isaac's, and Isaac turned his hand to hold Allison's hand properly.
"My dad. That last--the last night. Derek had already turned me, so he couldn't hurt me, but he threw this glass right--right over my head. It wasn't the first time, but I--I don't know why I was so scared. I don't know why that's what I keep remembering. I guess--it was the last thing he did to me. There was a piece--a piece of glass."
Isaac tilted his head, rubbing his cheek against his knee, and Allison's other hand reached out to brush against his face.
"I guess that," Isaac said quietly. "That was basically the last way he touched me before he died. He threw a glass and it shattered and cut my face."
Scott and Allison's hands tightened on his exactly in unison, which made Isaac smile a little, his eyes still fixed on the grass between them. He could almost see his dad's face, but the image was starting to blur in his memory.
"Oh my God please tell me it's okay to hug you right now," Scott said in a rush, and Isaac's head jerked up. He nodded quickly, more in response to the desperation in Scott's voice than because he'd processed what Scott said. But in the next second he had Scott wrapped tight around him. Isaac managed to unbend enough to tug Allison into his lap, and the two of them sandwiched him between them in a tangle of arms and legs.
He really didn't mind being hugged--he knew better than to say it out loud, but he'd never been hugged enough to have any bad associations with it. Hugging meant Scott and Allison to him, and when he wasn't panicking, Scott and Allison meant only good things. Isaac rested his cheek on Allison's shoulder, enjoying the way their bodies all fell into place with each other, their breathing and heartbeats all falling into sync.
"We really should eat dinner, though," Isaac said after a while. Neither of the others would ever say it. He had no doubt they were prepared to sit here in the backyard cuddling him until Scott's mom got home or Allison's dad came looking.
Allison's stomach growled like it agreed with him, and Allison burst out in startled giggles, which made Scott laugh a little too, mostly muffled. Isaac smiled and started trying to stand, but Scott beat him to it, showing off his alpha strength by popping up to his feet and bringing Allison and Isaac effortlessly along for the ride.
When they were all standing on their own feet again, Allison took hold of his right hand, and Scott took his left. Isaac looked down, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of their hands. He didn't usually like having both hands held; he didn't like not having at least one hand free to defend himself if he had to.
But tonight was Date Night. Isaac held on to both of them and tugged them toward the house.