Work Text:
Nobody ever tells you about the afterwards.
Isaac sat holding Ms. Blake for about as long as it took Derek to get up.
She tried to squirm out of his arms but he wouldn’t let go.
Later he will think oh, I panicked, he would wonder why he’d been holding her like that in the first place, and he won’t remember his thoughts.
His thoughts were ‘oh god please don’t leave me’ over and over again, getting faster and faster until his head couldn’t keep track of them and his chest tried to squeeze closed on his lungs and he screamed and she screamed and Derek wasn’t touching anyone ever again and Boyd wasn’t alive to get him off her, there was only Lydia and there was only Stiles and there was only Cora and no Scott to talk him down.
He would’ve crushed her.
Cora hadn’t even noticed, she choked out ‘I can’t feel his heart, it’s not there anymore, he’s not there anymore—’
Lydia. “Isaac, Isaac, honey I know, but you gotta let go of her," so calm so deliberate so slow.
Stiles. Not saying a word. Tugging at his fingers. Biting his lips so hard they bled.
Crying.
Finally. “Do you need someone to hold, is that it Isaac, is that what you need? Let her go, let her go and you can grab me and squeeze me until my eyes pop out of my head just let her go.” Quiet. Fast. Terrified.
Terrified got through and Isaac let her go with a strangled little sound of horror. She fell forward, hands going to her arms, then pressing into the concrete and dragging toward Derek.
Isaac hadn’t been able to focus, things were sliding, things weren’t solid, and he looked at Stiles and saw a blur of wet eyes and pale and dark hair and plaid and he brought his own knees to his chest, curled forward, and squeezed them so tight tight tight he felt his kneecaps cracking and then breaking and he screamed again but it still wasn’t enough, they were both gone, packmates almost friends Erica Boyd gone gone gone—
Arms. Around his shoulders. Not Derek, he could see Derek, Derek crying Derek being hugged by Ms. Blake from the side. Cora, her head on Boyd’s chest now, shaking all over. Lydia by Ms. Blake, looking lost but determined.
Stiles. There was no one else.
“You’re gonna break yourself in half, Isaac, stop it—”
Stiles crying.
Isaac’s arms lost strength and he started rocking back and forth, involuntary tears spilling from his eyes. They fell into his lap and he stared out, not quite focused, voice venom.
“Why are we sitting here. They. They just killed him. They made—they forced—they killed Boyd. In front of us. In front of all of us. In front of us, they killed him. They killed him!” It exploded from his lips, doubling him over again. The arms were around his neck now, rocking with him.
“I know. I know I know I know. It’s—I know. We’ll get them. We’ll fucking get them, okay? We will, we will, we’ll get them for this, all of them, we’ll get them, don’t—don’t. It’s them, it’s not you, we’ll deal with this, don’t—”
Hissing noises of pain. His hand’s found Stiles’s arms and he was squeezing, he was squeezing way too tight, he was hurting, he knew it but he couldn’t stop it—
“We have to. We have to we have to they all have to die how could someone do this how could they do this to anyone Boyd didn’t he didn’t he didn’t no one deserves oh god, oh god he’s dead, he’s oh god, oh god—” His voice was back to screaming volume and then it broke, it just tore and coherent noise stopped coming out entirely. He tilted his head back and loosed it without conscious volition and then tipped forward and shoved his forehead on his knees. His voice was strangled. Broken. “He was graduating this year. He was my friend. He was eighteen. Now he’s dead. It could’ve been me. I—I’m faster. I’ve always been faster—” And then he snapped, sobbing and softening, his hands on Stiles’s arms going easy, going soft.
“It should’ve been me. I wish it was me.”