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Isaac crouched over Stiles’ desk, legs pretzeled up underneath him and hands buried in his hair. The essay hadn’t taken him long, mostly because he could talk for hours about all the reasons he wanted to be a vet. The applications weren’t that bad either, mostly just mindless paperwork.
But the financial aid applications. They were confusing. They were also the most important because there was really no way he could afford even community college without help. (Derek said they would probably give him plenty of financial aid since he was an orphan, but that really wasn’t too reassuring because he still had to fill out all the forms.)
He didn’t know any of this stuff. These were all the things he’d never had to know because—that’s what his dad was for. His dad was there to push him and make him be better and he would have probably been happy about vet school and he would have definitely known Isaac’s social security number.
By the time Derek stepped through the window, Isaac had worried his hair into a mess of tufts. Derek snorted, frowning right after when Isaac gave him a wild-eyed look. “You okay?”
“I—I don’t know my social security number,” Isaac said in a small voice.
“Oh. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow,” he said, leaning against the windowsill. “Yeah?”
And Isaac felt a maybe-imagined pain in his throat and when he started sniffling he thought for a second that Derek was actually going to jump right back out the window so he shoved his palms against his eyes and tried to stop.
“Um,” Derek said. “Are you—uh. Can I—maybe I should call Stiles or something, he—“
Isaac choked on something that was half laugh, half sob and he spread his hands to cover his face.
“Okay,” Derek said. “You…want to tell me what’s wrong?”
He was trying so hard even though it could not be more obvious that the guy dealt with emotions about as well as he dealt with Argent on a good day, which was to say, not at all.
“I,” Isaac said. “I—I miss my dad.”
He could hear Derek shift against the window. “Your—dad? The guy who—“
“He wasn’t always,” Isaac said. “He was—he was really great when I was little. We used to get ice cream every Saturday, the three of us, and he only, he only hit me a couple times while Cam was there but he never—until Cam died he never—“ He dug his fingers into his eyes and tried to make it stop but it was—
Then there was a tentative hand on his shoulder and he couldn’t help flinching. “Hey,” Derek said. “It’s—you’re okay.”
Isaac squeezed his eyes shut. “I always figured he would help me with this stuff,” he said. “I don’t—I don’t know anything about taxes, or, or exemptions and—am I a dependent?” He sniffed loudly. “Did—did you go to college?”
The hand floated on the tips of his hair and then it settled on the back of his head. “Yeah, kind of.”
“How—how can you kind of?” His hands fell into his lap and before he could think too much, he turned and pressed his face into Derek’s side. Derek tensed and Isaac could feel him willing himself to relax.
“Online,” Derek said. “Laura and I both took online classes.”
“Yeah?” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to scrub all the tears out of his lashes. “So you got a degree?”
“English lit.”
Isaac almost laughed at that. “Yeah?”
“I couldn’t really think of anything else, not after—you know. I just wanted to forget, and I’d always liked books. And then the next thing I knew I was writing this paper about how Jane Austen revolutionized modern narration and I—“ He broke off and his fingers twitched in Isaac’s hair.
“Jane Austen? Really?”
“Really,” Derek said. “I mean, I didn’t choose it or anything. I never knew I could get so worked up about an infallible narrator, but, it happened. And if you ever tell anybody, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
Isaac did laugh then. “Deal.” The hand in his hair moved to the back of his neck and tilted his head up. Derek looked down at him, his forehead creased.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just…I really need to finish this.” He waved his hand at the pile of papers.
“Let me look.” Derek let go of his neck and picked the papers up, scanning through them. “We can go find out your social security number tomorrow and then I can help you fill these out if you want.”
“That would be really great,” Isaac said, rubbing away the last of the tears.
“Good.” Derek set the papers back on the desk and sighed heavily. “Look, it’s been a long week, you mind if I take a nap?”
Isaac blinked. “On Stiles’ bed?”
Shrugging, Derek said, “Yeah.”
“Won’t he be back soon?”
“I don’t care.” Derek kicked his shoes off and shuffled to the bed. He flung himself down and sprawled on top of the quilt. He flopped around until he got comfortable.
Isaac took his essay out of his backpack. He’d asked Stiles to read it, since Stiles was definitely the smartest person he knew—well, except Lydia, but Lydia was really scary and Stiles was way more cuddly than scary. He read over the first page and then glanced over at Derek, who had one arm covering his eyes.
The essay looked fine, but he wasn’t really much of a writer. Stiles would probably find plenty wrong with it. But that was fine. He’d rather have Stiles tell him it sucked than anybody else.
He looked at Derek again.
“What?” Derek groaned, his arm still over his eyes.
“I just, um, I was wondering if…”
Derek rose up just enough to prop himself up on his elbows. He frowned as Isaac’s eyes flicked down the empty length of bed next to him. “Are you asking if I’ll let you nap with me?”
Isaac flinched, which made Derek frown even more. “Maybe?”
Derek’s eyes narrowed. Then, with a truly impressive sigh, Derek flopped back onto the bed. “Fine.”
“Really?” Isaac said, standing up. His bones creaked. Derek just raised one eyebrow. “Also I promise that I am not at all attracted to you and this is not me trying to get in your pants.”
“I know,” Derek said. “Werewolf, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” He loomed over Derek, feeling really awkward. “Can I—“
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
He chewed on his lower lip for a second and then decided that he should just do it before he overthought everything. In one motion he slid onto the bed, squirming onto his side and butting his shoulder up under Derek’s armpit so he could use Derek’s chest as a pillow. Derek immediately tensed up, so he curled his hands against his own stomach.
“Isaac?” Derek said.
“Yeah?”
Derek was quiet for a moment. His breathing was slow and even, and his heart was loud as a drum in Isaac’s ears. “Have you ever read Emma?”
“Is it any good?”
“Yeah,” Derek said softly. “It’s good.”
And then Isaac’s chin began to crumple and tremble again because it was Derek, letting down his guard, talking about novels, it was Derek vulnerable and human and for some reason he could feel his heart starting to break again so he shut his eyes as tightly as possible and just started talking.
He told Derek everything. About how Scott was the one who got him interested in being a vet, how he was painfully in love with Scott for at least a year before he realized that no matter how many times Allison broke up with him, Scott was even more painfully in love with her than he was with Scott. How they’re friends now and he doesn’t even feel awkward anymore. How for a while he thought he might be in love with Erica but then one day he woke up and realized he loved her because she was pack, she was family.
How he definitely wasn’t in love with Derek, never thought he was, not for a minute, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love him, because he does, okay, he really didn’t want to at first because Derek was seriously an asshole but then he figured out that they were actually the same in a lot of ways, that the pack was the only thing holding them together.
About how he knew it wasn’t Jackson’s fault, what happened to his dad, but he still had trouble looking him in the eyes sometimes.
How he cried the first time he took a dying dog’s pain away. How for once, he didn’t see it as a weakness.
How for the first time in his life, he wasn’t afraid anymore.
He talked himself almost to sleep, until his eyes were drifting shut and his face was even more squashed against Derek’s chest. He could tell Derek was still awake, his arm curled loosely around Isaac’s shoulders.
When the door squeaked open, neither of them moved.
After a second, Stiles said, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Derek said. “Just talking.”
Isaac could hear Stiles walk across the room to the bed. “You sure?”
“Yeah. How’d your visit go?”
Isaac smiled when he felt Derek’s heartbeat hitch as Stiles put a knee on the bed. It was nothing new, but it never failed to calm him down, to know that Derek did have emotions, even if only the wolves knew about it. Stiles probably didn’t even know what he did to Derek.
“I really liked this one,” Stiles said. The bed shifted again, and Isaac craned his neck to see. Stiles lifted the pillow out from under Derek’s head and then scooted across the bed to lean on the wall. Derek settled his head on Stiles’ thigh.
Isaac bit back a laugh as Derek’s heart hiccupped again. One of Stiles’ hands found its way to Isaac’s head, twining in his hair.
“Yeah?” Derek said. “What about it?”
“It’s, like, weirdly pretty. Like it’s in the middle of a city but it’s just so pretty. Plus it isn’t even an hour away, which would be good for my dad and, y’know, the pack. And it’s got this really great English program.”
Hiding his grin in Derek’s shirt, Isaac thought that maybe he could stop trying so hard.
“What about you, kid?” Stiles said, tugging gently on his hair.
“All done with the applications. And my essay. And Derek’s going to help me with the financial aid forms,” he murmured, letting his eyes close again as Stiles started scratching his scalp.
“Is he now,” Stiles said.
Derek made a noncommittal noise.
With his eyes closed, Isaac could hear the steady beating of Derek’s heart, the pitter-patter of Stiles’, nervous, could even heard Stiles’ dad’s, faint and slow, if he tried. He smiled softly.
“Stiles?” he said.
“Yeah,” Stiles sighed.
“Have you ever read Emma?” he asked as he fell asleep.