Chapter Text
It's Thursday afternoon and Isaac stays behind after training to keep an eye on Jackson. Derek would do it, he tells Isaac seriously, but he has something important on. This is bullshit, because Isaac can smell Stiles and his jeep, sitting in the driveway, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. They have fifteen minutes till their movie starts. Isaac is pretty sure that there is nothing much he can offer Jackson and any intervention he could implement would result in mutual injury, but Derek twitches and tugs the hem of his jacket restlessly and Isaac figures that his Alpha deserves a break from Jackson every once in a while.
Two minutes later, Stiles’ jeep screeches – no one has ever really understood why they never use Derek's car – and Isaac is standing in the kitchen watching Jackson over-exert himself.
The Hale house is quiet for once, but not really empty. It smells of Pack, now, of Family, like Isaac remembers from years and years ago, when his father still knew how to smile. Its nice.
The girls are out, Isaac knows, Thursday is mall day after training; Erica had very nearly bowled him over in a bid to grab the showers first. He would know, anyway, because Scott never stops grumbling over his exclusion from these strictly no-boyfriends trips. It borders on annoying, sometimes, but to love someone like Scott loves Allison and be loved like that in return is something real and true. Isaac had never really believed it could happen and seeing them is like a breath of fresh air - a promise or a spring of hope.
And Boyd. Isaac sniffs, Boyd is in his room, sitting, probably watching Jackson too. Boyd has always been the responsible one. Isaac considers calling Boyd down to watch with him. He makes it to the foot of the stairs before deciding against it.
They could do with some time apart after they fizzled out. It was stupid to begin with, they both agreed - stupid to start something based on the Bite that drew them together, when there wasn't a single spark between them. It had been good, though, their relationship, comfortable and warm and more like a friendship than anything else.
Boyd got Isaac, and maybe that was why they could never work out.
Isaac heads outside, squinting in the sun and feeling sticky already. He'd just got into a new T-shirt, too. Its pushing five, and Jackson has been out there since noon like the rest of them without so much as a water break. The idiot. Thats the thing about Jackson, Isaac has come to realize, he can't stand being behind the rest of the pack, the inexperienced failure who fell prey to the crazy,vengeful Master.
The thing is, no one else thinks that Jackson is behind besides Jackson himself. Sure, he's not quite there yet with the whole anchor thing, but Isaac is pretty sure that Jackson could hold his own against Boyd, even, in a fight. But then, Jackson can't see that. Jackson has to be the best. He wants Derek to recognize him, single him out for praise and promote him to pack captain or something.
Derek, though, is not like that. Two years of being an Alpha have not yet gifted Derek with the ability to have emotional heart-to-hearts with his Betas. Derek's last (Stiles enforced) attempt at getting Jackson to tone it down had ended with him wolf-ing out and Jackson huddled in a corner with a renewed determination to overtake the whole pack)
Isaac's train of thought is cut off sharply when Jackson slams himself into a tree. Derek can probably hear the crack of Jackson's skull from where he's cuddled up with Stiles in the theatre. From his room, Boyd makes a sympathetic noise. Isaac can practically smell him pushing off all wolf-sitting responsibility, the fucker.
Jackson sits on the grass and curls into himself. It's strange seeing Jackson - strong, beautiful Jackson huddled up like he's been defeated. Isaac grabs an ice-pack and heads over slowly. You never really know how Jackson will react to assistance. Today, though, the knock must have been pretty bad. Jackson lets Isaac tug him into a sitting position and turns his head obligingly to let Isaac press the ice against his forehead.
“You okay?”
“Yeah”, Jackson rasps painfully, “it's healing”.
And it is, but Jackson is very much not okay and Isaac vocalizes this, ignoring the way Jackson scowls because Isaac is clearly right.
The snappy retort is right on the tip of Jackson's tongue, but he seems to shake himself a little and shrugs instead. It's not really a response, but it's not bad. Jackson doesn't let Isaac help him back to the house, but they walk in companionable silence and Jackson accepts the bottle of water Isaac hands him with a mumbled word of thanks.
Isaac is just beginning to think that maybe they could just sit in silence together until the rest of the pack come back when Jackson gets up, stretches, and makes to go back out.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Isaac places himself between Jackson and the door, “That's enough for today.”
“I don't have to listen to you,” Jackson does not take well to instruction. He takes a defiant step forward.
It would be so easy to let himself lose it, have a heated brawl with Jackson and his messed up mindset, Isaac muses. Jackson isn't being the most likeable person in the world, and Isaac’s wolf wants to teach him a lesson, beat Jackson. But it's an ugly part of him, a part that Isaac has control over. He exercises this control and puts a palm on Jackson's chest.
“It's been five hours, Jackson, you need to rest or you won't be able to move a muscle tomorrow. There isn't anything more you can do without Derek here anyway.”
Jackson raises his chin in disagreement. He’s already losing control and Isaac realizes that maybe Jackson has a problem that needs a bit more attention than Derek thinks (or wants to think, Isaac isn't really sure. He makes a note to talk to Stiles later.)
“This isn't lacrosse,” Isaac says firmly and pushes Jackson gently back to his seat. He doesn't expect Jackson to let him, but Jackson sags and flops down again.
Neither of them knows quite what to say after this.
“I wanted to fight you, you know. The wolf wanted to rip your throat out”, Jackson, says at last. And finally they're getting somewhere. Isaac moves closer to Jackson on the couch, ignoring the way Jackson instinctively shifts away a little.
“I did too”, Isaac tells him. “But once you find your anchor, your wolf doesn't feel like such a big problem anymore”. Things like running, though, are another story. Isaac is bad at running.
“I have an anchor”, Jackson says irritably, “and its useless”.
“It's not all about you, you know,” Isaac chooses to say mildly.
Jackson glares, but Isaac continues, because if Derek can't say it, he may as well have a go.
“Your anchor isn't about you. It's not about desire or mindless anger. It has to come from a part of you that makes you believe that you can do anything. When you think about it, your heart knows peace and you become your wolf's master.”
Jacksons mouth snaps shut into a thin line.
“And,” Isaac continues, “you aren't going anywhere without throwing away all the competitive god-complex shit. You’re Pack, and we need to draw strength from each other. You’ll only hurt yourself if all you want is to beat everyone else.”
In the space of five seconds, Jackson's face shifts from shocked, to outraged to defeated. What results is a look so afriad and broken that Isaac thinks he might cry. And while Jackson has been pack for months, this is the first time Isaac feels an urge to go over and snuggle Jackson until he's better. He considers this for a momment before deciding against moving too fast. Being thrown across the room does nothing for fostering strong pack bonds.
What Isaac does instead is press his hands into Jackson's shoulders for a few seconds and knead gently till Jackson’s muscles loose a fraction of their tension. “Go take a shower,” he says softly.
Jackson goes.
Isaac sits by himself in thoughtful silence until the girls pour back in and wonders.