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Scott stares at his reflection in the mirror, black tie ready in hand as he slides his dark jacket on over his shoulders. His heart feels so heavy, defeated, broken. Even though the Nogitsune was taken down, Scott lost someone that could never be replaced; they all did. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that he would never see Allison again, never see her walking down the hall, laughing with Isaac or Lydia. Her smile would never make his heart beat faster again, and the words he said to her when they broke up would never come true.
“It’s okay Allison, because I know we’ll be together.”
Then things went from bad to worse, and she died with his arms wrapped around her.
“It’s okay Scott, you were my first love — I love you.”
She had been his soulmate, his true love; and while it may have been an idealistic dream of a teenager in love for the first time, Scott had always believed they would find each other again. Maybe not even in high school — they would go to different colleges, date other people and then maybe find work in the same town; he would be a veterinarian, Allison might have been a police officer. They’d meet for drinks, having years of distance to catch up on. Her smile would still light up the room, drawing Scott in with her beautiful eyes.
He had been having nightmares for the past week, snapshots of her being stabbed playing on a loop in his head. Stiles had stayed over the last three days, having dealt with recurring nightmares of his own and not wanting to be alone himself, but there was no way he could understand this. He had never been in love, not really; Stiles had had crushes or long-term obsessions like Lydia, but could never relate to losing the love of his life. As a side note, Scott hoped he’d never be able to relate. But he still felt alone, the only person who might understand what he was going through becoming more and more vacant since that night.
Because I love you.
Isaac had been spending lots of extra time with Mr. Argent since she passed, and while there were signs he was still sleeping here — messy sheets, yesterday’s clothes tossed on the floor — he hadn’t been around nearly as often.
Maybe that was Scott’s own fault, subconsciously pushing him away when he and Allison started dating. It had stung more than he wanted to admit; not just her moving on, but her moving on with someone who had become one of his closest friends, his family, hurt more than he thought it would. He did his best to be the better person, doing what he hoped was a great job of putting on a brave face and leaving them be, but that doesn’t mean it didn't sting or that he was any less jealous.
He was missing Isaac especially now; his tall, lanky presence, how he was always ready with a sarcastic remark and witty banter, how he barely put any effort into his hair and still somehow left the house with literally perfect curls. How Issac had slowly, unintentionally, irrevocably wormed his way into Scott’s life and he didn't want that to change.
Scott’s hands were too shaky to put on his tie for her funeral, his heartbeat increasingly frazzled, distraught, panicked, as he tried and tried and tried to wrap it around his neck. All he could hear, all he could feel was Allison and it was killing him. Scott had been through so much with his friends the last few years, but nothing like this.
A choked sob came out of his lips as the tie slipped out of his hands and Scott fell to his knees, burying his head in his hands. It almost felt like an asthma attack, but he knew it wasn’t because of asthma.
Because I love you.
Scott isn’t sure how long he stays on the floor like that, too mentally exhausted to do anything else. But he smells the other boy before he sees him, Isaac’s scent filling his senses as Scott cries dry, empty tears on the floor of his room. There’s a hesitant hand on his shoulder, and he can sense Isaac’s nervous heartbeat thumping erratically next to him.
“She loved you too, you know,” Scott murmurs. “She hadn’t looked at anyone like she looked at you in a long time.”
Isaac’s heart freezes for a second, and Scott wishes more than anything that he could take his pain away. Werewolf healing only worked for physical pain though, not emotional. “Let’s get you up off the floor,” Isaac says quietly, taking his hand as he helped Scott stand.
He stays silent as unsuspecting tension inevitably fills the room, Isaac moving in uncomfortably close to help him with the tie.
“Have you ever been to a funeral before?” Isaac asks, tentatively. His expression was blank, but Scott could feel his nervous heartbeat. The other werewolf is close enough that Scott can feel his breath lingering on his face, and he resists the urge to drop his eyes and stare at Isaac’s lips.
Isaac’s eyebrows quirk upwards in curiosity, which means he noticed; maybe in another lifetime, worlds away from this one, Isaac would’ve smirked and had something sarcastic and borderline flirtatious to say, but not today, it seemed. Today, Scott could see his own sadness reflected in Isaac’s eyes and he hated it.
It was a day that came too soon, too undeserved; they were all alive because of Allison, he owed so much to her. She deserved so much more than what Beacon Hills had given her — what Scott could’ve given her. He couldn’t forget the devastated expression on her dad’s face when he arrived, too late to do anything, Lydia wailing screams of Allison ringing in their ears. It wasn’t fair to any of them and especially Mr. Argent; no father should have to bury their teenage child who wasn’t even eighteen yet.
“We went to the one for Allison’s aunt... but she was a raging psychopath who committed genocide,” Scott replies shakily, as Issac’s long, firm hands adjusted the tie. He could feel Isaac’s fingers moving against his chest, his touch unbearably gentle.
Isaac’s hand stays a little too long on Scott’s shoulder, his free one smoothing the black tie out. He sighs, saying, “Allison was having nightmares about her. She would wake up screaming, like she was being haunted.”
Scott glances up at Isaac’s sad, guarded blue eyes, and he is surprised by the fact that he really, really wants to kiss him. He just wants to feel something that isn’t devastating grief, and Isaac has always quietly been there, always ready to be by his side.
If Scott was being totally honest with himself, he had felt a pull towards Isaac for a long time, even before Allison was killed. Scott had never had time to figure out what it was, always assuming it was the pack bond, but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Isaac’s hand rests gently on his chest, pressing into the tie. Tension is surrounding both of them, as though Issac could grasp his tie and it would snap in half. They’re standing so painfully close, and Scott is torn between basking in the receiving end of Isaac’s full attention, or noticing the way Isaac’s erratic heartbeat is matching his.
“So uh, there was something I was meaning to tell you... Mr. Argent is moving to France, and he invited me to come with him,” Isaac blurts out, as though he was reading Scott’s actions and was feeling just as overwhelmed as he was.
And there it is, where Isaac had slowly been making a new home for himself with the Argents in a way he never could. In a way, it wasn’t fair. Her family hadn’t been ready for Allison to date a werewolf while they’d been together, but now… things were different. They had evolved, and it was okay now. Well, as okay as it would ever be. Scott steps back, inhaling sharply like he’d been stabbed. Isaac shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, and Scott wants nothing more than to snatch his hand back.
“I see… are you gonna go with him?” Scott asks, slowly moving his gaze down to Isaac’s dirty, worn converse.
“I think so, there isn’t a lot left for me here and I’ve never been outside of Beacon Hills, so…” Isaac replies, awkwardly grabbing at his elbow and trailing off.
“You — you should go. You’re probably safer in France than with me anyways,” he stammers, trying his best to put on yet another brave face, when the reality of losing Allison and Isaac in the same week was a blow he didn’t think he could handle.
Isaac presses his forehead against his in a move so tender and unexpected that it makes Scott’s heart break all over again, as the other boy quietly asks, “Do you really want me to do that?”
He was so close to Isaac and he was so sure this was it; if there was ever going to be something between them...
Scott wasn’t sure which one of them moved in to kiss first, which one of them snapped. He thinks maybe it was Isaac but it didn’t matter, not really. Their lips pressed together in a heated sense of desperation, drinking in need and comfort and just wanting to escape the real world for a little while.
Not grief, not sadness — something else entirely, as though it could be the start of something new. Scott feels more alive than he has in days, moving his hands to wrap around Isaac’s waist as their kiss deepened. His tongue presses against Isaac’s mouth and it’s welcomed warmly, sloppily, happily; Scott thinks it’s the hottest thing.
He fleetingly thinks that Isaac kisses differently than Allison; where she had soft curves and sharp edges, he kissed how he fought, rough and daring and passionate.
“So uh, do you really want me to go?” Isaac asks again, and there’s a hint of a smirk spreading on his jawline.
Scott’s eyes flash red, only making the other boy’s smirk wider. “Get on the bed.”
Isaac complies, climbing up on Scott’s bed in a flash and he doesn’t want to forget this moment at all.
Scott climbs on top of him, pressing kisses against his lips as he grinds down on Isaac’s hips, making him let out a breathy moan. He’d never been with a guy before, just Allison. There had only ever been Allison.
And it was exhilarating, his body acting and knowing what to do before he did. Isaac reaches up to rip the tie off, shrugging Scott out of the jacket and he arches into the other boy’s touch, Isaac’s lean fingers peeling off his layers that he had so tediously put on just moments before.
“Fuck,” Scott breathes. “Are you sure this is okay?” Because he had to ask, Scott knew enough of Isaac’s history and didn’t want him to feel scared or cornered or afraid ever again, and —
“Scott McCall, if you don’t fuck me I’ll literally kill you,” Isaac says, a lightness in his eyes that Scott had missed dearly, had never really seen before except in rare moments, like when he was just waking up in the morning or sometimes when Issac was talking to his mom.
The tie laid on the floor, forgotten with the rest of their clothes.
Because I love you.
They’re both quiet after, Scott resting his head on Isaac’s bare chest under the warm, messy sheets. Scott presses gentle, soft kisses into Isaac’s neck and runs his hands through his hair as Isaac’s arms wrap around him tighter and he sighs, this time in content. Listening to Isaac’s quiet breathing gave Scott a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt even when he and Allison had been at their best, sneaking all over Beacon Hills just to have a few minutes together. Maybe it was a werewolf thing, he considers, and he makes a mental note to come back to that train of thought later.
There’s a knock on his door, his mom’s voice interrupting them. “Scott, are you dressed? We’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”
“Be down in a minute, Mom,” he calls back. Scott kisses Isaac again, coming back to reality whether he wanted to or not.
“So we should, uh —,” Isaac says, breaking off awkwardly as his eyes meet Scott’s.
“Right, they’ll be waiting for us,” Scott replies, and he’s once again surprised by the regret he feels rolling off the bed.
The funeral ceremony was small and simple compared to Kate’s; no press fighting to get in, nothing too granduer or overly excessive. It was only Allison’s dad, her friends and a few teachers from school. Sheriff Stilinski was still on patrol anyways, keeping an eye out for anyone who might feel tempted to disturb them.
He stands in front between Isaac and Lydia, with Mr. Argent on Isaac’s other side. Lydia is crying on Stiles’s shoulder, her free hand gripping Scott’s tightly as his fingers brush against Isaac’s in a fleeting reach for comfort.
Her funeral passes in a messy, overwhelming blur, Mr. Argent’s stoic face and steady voice keeping them all together. His eulogy was moving, passionate, desperately sad as they all remembered Allison for the hero she was, and he knew the man well enough by now that Scott can tell he struggled to get through it.
Isaac still leaves with Mr. Argent the same evening, and Scott’s quickly learning that because I love you isn’t always enough.