Chapter Text
When Argent parked his silver SUV in front of the McCall house around six in the evening and glanced sideways at Isaac in the passenger seat, he couldn’t tell if Isaac’s broad shoulders were hunched from jet lag or trepidation.
“Call me if you need me,” Argent offered. Isaac bobbed his head, grabbed his backpack and slipped out of the car, slamming the door with a little more force than necessary and making his way up to the sunroom door. He pulled out his set of keys, fingering them as he reflected on the morning Melissa gave them to him. He put in the deadlock key and turned, but realizing it was already unlocked, he grabbed the doorknob and went in.
“There are leftover enchiladas in the fridge,” Melissa called out as she darted into the kitchen to grab her purse off the desk. When she found Isaac waiting for her instead of Scott, her lips parted, then she threw her arms around his neck and enveloped him in a motherly embrace that managed to dwarf his broad frame. Tears threatened his eyes, but he bit his cheek. “Next time you go gallivanting across the globe, at least tell me where you’re going and how long,” she said as she pulled back.
“You’re not my mom,” Isaac chuckled softly, and she smacked his arm playfully. She put her hand on her hip as she looked him over quickly, as if expecting to find some new wound she needed to inspect. She sighed.
“I know you and Scott have things to work out,” Melissa said, “but you know this house is your home whenever you need it.”
“Thanks,” he said. It was odd to have lost his mother, then brother, then father, only to gain a whole new set, albeit from different families. Of course, if he and Scott couldn’t figure things out, it wouldn’t matter if Melissa still had open arms for him–he’d be out a second family.
“Scott should be home any minute,” Melissa said as she threw her purse over her shoulder. “I thought he was going to pick you up?”
“Uh, yeah, I just had Chris drop me off as soon as we got back to town,” Isaac explained, scratching the back of his neck. “I figured that’d be easier.”
Melissa nodded as she headed towards the door. “Well, you can help yourself to enchiladas, too. And regardless of what you decide, you still need to text me.”
“I will, I promise.”
She waved as she closed the door behind her. Isaac dropped his bag on the table and opened the fridge, pulled out the casserole dish and set it on the stovetop as he preheated the oven. He knew his way around the kitchen–cooking was one of the chores his father had shrugged off on him. In fact, it felt stranger to be warming food made by someone other than himself. That had been one of the many small joys he had found in the McCall house–someone else’s cooking.
The enchiladas were in the oven and almost ready when Isaac heard Scott’s bike coming down the road. Judging from the direction, he’d been at the vet clinic. If he closed his eyes, Isaac could sense that thred, that tingling like a twitching muscle in his shoulder that connected him to his chosen Alpha. His connection with Derek had been harder to ignore, but he found that when he had chosen Scott, their pack bond was thicker, stronger. Even when Scott was angry with him for dating Allison, it was solid and unbreakable. That was how Isaac knew that the current, strained state of their connection was on his part; as much as he kept telling himself he needed to try and talk to Scott, they both knew it was Scott who needed to work things out with him.
Isaac heard, felt him pause outside the door. The conversation had already started; Scott hesitated before gently pushing the door and stepping inside. Isaac gripped the oven handle, reminding himself not to break it. He couldn’t bring himself to turn when he felt Scott’s gaze on his back.
“You didn’t text me back,” Scott said. Isaac forced himself to turn around.
“It was easier to just have Argent drop me. He can pick me up after I pack.”
They locked eyes, taking in each other’s frustration, anger, and confusion as much through their noses as through their body language.
“Punch me,” Scott said.
Isaac clenched his jaw. “No, I don’t need…” Damn that pack bond. He could feel each fraying fiber.
“She said she loved me.” Scott could hear Isaac’s pulse quickening, and Scott closed the distance between them, never lowering his gaze. “Right before she died. In my arms.”
Before Scott could register movement, Isaac’s fist connected with Scott’s left cheek, and he flew back into the counter across the kitchen. Aggression drove Isaac towards Scott, his yellow eyes flashing, but he stopped when he picked up the muted scent of Scott’s blood. Scott pushed himself up slowly, licking the blood that had trickled from his mouth down his lip.
“Hit me again,” Scott challenged him, but now Scott’s face had dropped the provoking mask Isaac realized he had put on just to get Isaac to attack. Isaac breathed deeply, letting it go as he shook his head. Scott sighed in visible relief. The tension on their bond lessened. Isaac offered Scott his hand, and pulled him to his feet.
“You don’t have to go,” Scott said.
“I can’t stay. I can’t live here.”
“Because of me? Because of what she said?”
Isaac steadied his breath. “I can’t stay in Beacon Hills. I need a break.” The timer went off, and Isaac moved to the stove, grabbed the food from the oven with the hand towel and put it on top of the stove. He tossed the towel on the counter and turned around, leaning on it and sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’ve lost too much.”
“If you’re talking about family, pack is family–”
“Scott, I’ve lost my actual family–regardless of how messed up they were–then I lost my first pack, and now Allison. Don’t get me wrong; you and Melissa are great, but I see ghosts everywhere I go. I can’t take it anymore.”
“No, no…I get that,” Scott said as he moved to the table and finally dropped his bookbag.
Isaac crossed his arms and stared at the floor. “I still need to know…d-did you still…do you still love her?”
Scott’s gaze drifted, looking through the haze of his mixed feelings for the truth. “When the sun is up…I don’t know. I don’t think so. But at night, when I’m falling asleep, when I wake and the world is still dark…yes.” Isaac nodded as he took in Scott’s response. Scott looked back up. “Did she ever tell you she loved you?”
Isaac hesitantly shook his head. “No, no. I…thought we did, but we never said it. Maybe I was wrong the whole time.”
“I don’t think you were. I know–knew Allison well enough to know she loved you, too. I’m sorry, Isaac.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Isaac glanced at the enchiladas, ready to be done with the conversation. “Food?”
“Hell yes.” Scott dropped his back on a chair and went to grab plates and cutlery. “So where are you gonna go?”
“Chris is setting me up with a pack outside of Paris.”
Scott nearly dropped the plates. “Like, as in France? I thought maybe LA or…”
“He thinks the culture change will keep me busy. I was hoping for Greenland, but as Chris is a former werewolf hunter, not a lot of Alphas trust him enough to take on an unknown Beta.”
“You liked Greenland that much?”
Something wild lit in Isaac’s eyes as he grinned, and Scott found himself intrigued. “It’s a wolf’s paradise.”
“Huh.” Scott was unsure of what to do with that. He knew there was an instinctual pull to the wilderness; it was common for new werewolves to wake up in the woods. At the moment, he felt so human it was difficult to tap into the idea of wandering frozen wastelands for pleasure, but he was never one to turn down the opportunity for adventure. “I’d like to see it someday.”
“Then plan to stay longer than three days, because the trip is a nightmare.” Isaac served up four enchiladas each, cleaning out the dish. They sat down at the table.
“Don’t like flights?” Scott teased.
“That is an understatement.”
“I think I ought to tell you, Derek is missing,” Scott said. Isaac froze with a fork full of tortilla and chicken halfway to his mouth.
“He’s what?”
“Missing.” Scott pulled a bullet shell he’d been carrying around since the full moon from his pocket and set it on the table. Isaac picked it up and sniffed it.
“This the only lead?”
“This and thirty others just like it.”
“That looks like a Day of the Dead skull.” He rubbed his thumb over the symbol, thinking over the embossed ridges. “The Argents mark their bullets like this with a fleur de lis.”
“You think Argent could give us some insight?”
“Probably. Can I borrow it?” Isaac asked, and Scott nodded. Isaac slipped it into his pocket. “I’d offer to help, but my flight leaves right after the funeral on Saturday, and I’m helping Chris with the preparations. Not to mention all the paperwork and piles of homework I need to pick up from the school to finish the school year out abroad.”
“They’re letting you do that?”
“There’s basically only two weeks and finals. They’re letting me do most of it via email.”
“At least you don’t have to transfer mid semester.”
Scott could smell the concern on Isaac. Derek wasn’t his Alpha, but he was still the wolf that turned him. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
Isaac nodded, a small smile crossing his lip. “I know you will.”
While they would never say so, it surprised both of them how quickly reconciliation worked to repair their tie, even if they knew it would be formally broken in just a few days. It seemed to underline the power of their human nature that while they may no longer be bonded as wolves, their bond as brothers would stay strong.