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Everything was gone. Everything and everyone he had ever loved was gone, and he was alone. There was no more pack, no more powers, no more Scott. As glass bounced off the wall, chipping the lazily done paint job, it flew towards the boy crouched on the ground, almost as if it was aiming directly for him. He hadn’t had enough time to cover his face before a large shard of glass penetrated his open eye, splitting it down the center as he wailed in pain. He was blinded, all he could hear was his fathers mocking laugh, echoing throughout the confines of his mind.
The echo of his own screams followed — not his, but a young Isaac Lahey, he couldn’t have been more than 9 years old, yet a memory from all those years ago he remembered so clearly. The first day he was ever shut inside that god forsaken freezer. But this time it was different, he still had glass coming out of his eye, and when he reached up to touch his face to check for blood, it was useless, his fingernails were gushing out blood, fountains streaming out with every beat of his heart. It looked like a shitty horror movie, there weren’t arteries in fingers, it was impossible for something like this to even happen, but as he looked down, vision wobbling and fading in and out, it felt so incredibly real. The scared little boy couldn’t help but let out a blood-curdling screech, one that might even be competition for a certain redheaded banshee’s.
The next moment the sound of his heartbeat rang through his ears like a busted fire alarm, he quickly lifted his hands above the covers to look at his fingers, but his eyes couldn’t even adjust to the surrounding darkness as his vision tunneled. Isaac’s left hand moved up and down rapidly in front of his torso — thankfully the blood from his dream hadn’t followed — as if it was trying to mimic the pace of his breathing, his other hand gripped the sheet on what was technically the McCall’s guest room bed. He didn’t have time to register where he was or what he would be destroying as his claws emerged from his nail beds, sinking through the mattress before popping out the other side to dig into the raw flesh of his own hand.
His lips were parted in an unruly pant, gasping for air like his lungs had collapsed on themselves, the need for air was the only thing that kept his growing fangs from ripping apart his face to match his shredded palm. It felt as if he was a video game character, and some asshole lowered the frame rate and graphic settings as he attempted to look around the undecorated bedroom, hardly being able to distinct objects away from the wall.
Until finally, his eyes, his perfectly okay and seeing and glass-free eyes, landed on a figure all to familiar, as happy as he was that Scott had come to try and calm him down, god was he so fucking embaressed. Isaac wanted to run, just like he always did, everytime he would tell himself that running didn’t make him a coward, the memory of his father screaming at him at his first runaway attempt telling him the opposite would poke its way into his mind, front and center. God that memory gripped at his lungs and squeezed them together like a child to a caprisun.
Scott shouldn’t have to see him like this, it was uncharted territory for Isaac, letting someone witness him at his most vulnerable, moments like this he felt more exposed than he had on any full moon, because at least then he was powerful, as he sat there shaking he felt all but.
A hand, oh that hand, one Isaac had felt so many times on that same spot, Scott’s skin felt ironically like ice on a stove as it rested on Isaac’s unusually hot shoulder. And just like that Isaac could look up. It was strange to him, how much Scott’s touch had always been able to ground him, whether it was an alpha thing or a love thing Isaac didn’t know, but in that moment he couldn’t find himself caring all to much either way.
Much to his surprise, Isaac’s heartbeat eased its pace slowly, not exactly normal but not as fast as a cheetahs either thankfully. And in that moment he couldn’t stop himself from doing something he had kept refusing to give into everyday. He let himself cry.
Boy did he, the moment Scott’s arms laced themselves around Isaac’s torso, bringing him in slowly enough so he could still pull away if he wanted to, and if it was anybody else he would have, but this was Scott McCall, his true alpha, the kindest soul he had ever met, one who took him in like a broken and beaten toy tossed to the side of the road without any hesitation. So of course, he instead buried his face in the brunette’s shoulder, feeling the boy’s crooked jaw against his neck as Scott turned his head to look at him. All he could think to do in that moment was mutter hushed phrases, Isaac’s favorite was ‘I’m here, I promise I’m not going to let anything hurt you’ while running a calloused hand up and down the taller’s back in what Scott hoped was a comforting manner until Isaac was breathing relatively slower.
It didn’t take his wolf senses to notice the shift in Isaac’s mood over those couple minutes, when the blonde was able to breath without feeling on the verge of death, the absolute embarrassment and regret from his display of emotions washed over him like a salty wave, making his face contort back into a small cringe against Scott’s shoulder. But even through all of that, Scott was still there, still holding him and caressing his back gently as if he were a thin pane of glass that would shatter into pieces if to much pressure was applied, and Isaac supposed in some ways that he was.
“Fuck,” he muttered with a sickly sounding sniff. “I’m sorry.” Isaac muttered against Scott’s slightly damp white t-shirt before beginning to recoil back. Isaac couldn’t help but feel guilty, the other wolf had already done so much for him, more than anyone ever has for him in his entire life, way more than he thought he deserved.
Though, he stopped, completely petrified in place as if he just gazed into the eyes of Medusa herself when Scott unwrapped his arms from Isaac’s torso, moving so slowly like he would with a scared, injured dog at the vet, and he felt that all to familiar hand gently pad over the sides of his face, one thumb moving back and forth slowly across his cheekbone, the other cradling the opposing side of his face with such tenderness and genuine compassion Isaac couldn’t even fathom wanting to leave that moment. Why couldn’t every moment be as beautiful as Isaac felt when Scott’s hypnotic brown eyes glazed over him again and again, as if not even he could comprehend what exactly was going on in that moment.
“Don’t apologize,” words that Isaac had never heard, at least not directed at him, since meeting Scott.
Isaac brought up his own hands to wrap around Scott’s own that had still been cradling his face, slightly adjusting his position so he could sit on his knees. All throughout it Scott’s eyes never left him once.
They sat there for what seemed like an awkwardly long and silent amount of time, but honestly neither of the two wolves could bring themselves to care how long it had been. Isaac wondered if this was what being loved felt like — having someone gaze at you and feeling in your soul the tenderness and adoration of their stare, having their hands placed to rest among your face with more gentleness you ever believe you deserved, having somebody let you cry without judgement.
In a brief lapse of dazed action Isaac shifted forward, running a gentle thumb over the back of Scott’s hand. Isaac moved with uncertainly and hesitance, giving Scott more than enough time needed to pull away if he wanted, but instead he chose to mimic Isaac’s movements. The boys couldn’t help the small giggles that escaped when their noses bumped together, Isaac unwraveled his hands from Scott’s and instead placed one to mirror the hand over his face, placing it on Scott’s asymmetrical cheek, and the other tucked onto his hip bone.
Finally, after a period Isaac could describe as centuries did they kiss.
It was uncoordinated and messy, they had slightly missed each others lips and their teeth slammed together enough to give Isaac a headache for the next two minutes, but he didn’t give less of a shit, it was with Scott, that’s all that mattered to him.
Even though he had no more air left in his lungs Isaac was sad to pull away, he would have happily let Scott take the last breath from his body. Tonight, however, he wanted to live, though a vast majority of his bucket list was just checked off there was still at least more one more thing he needed to get done.
“Scott —“ he started, pursing his lips together and forcing back a smile when he still felt the pressure of Scott’s own lingering.
“I love you.”
He said it. Holy shit he said it. It sounded like nothing more than a breathy plea, but he had said it.
The way Scott’s face lit up captivated the room, practically pushing out the dim moonlight because even it knew nothing could compare to that boys smile. That same smile came back up to meet Isaac’s lips once again, this time it was a lot less uncoordinated.
“I love you too, Isaac.”
They had agreed to talk everything over in the morning when they were more well rested and functioning, but that night Scott stayed in Isaac’s bed, pulling the taller boy into his arms as Isaac hesitantly laid his head on the others chest, stroking his curly blonde hair until sleep overtook both of them, that night they both slept better then they had in months.