Teenwolf Fanfiction

Part 5

Today was going to be a long day. Isaac sighed as he surveyed the classroom from his usual seat in the back row. He watched Scott breeze in with his customary carefree confidence and Stiles sling himself into the adjacent chair with a tired look. He frowned; something smelled wrong. Mason and Corey snagged desks by the window just as Coach walked in, ready to 'teach' them about economics or the meaning of life with some stupid metaphor. Isaac hauled his text book onto the table with a large slap, wincing as Coach whipped his head up to give him a mean glare. 'Sorry Lahey – is the physical effort of being in this class too much for you? Because let me tell you – I would rather not be here with you knuckle heads either – but since I spent the entire night working on these lesson plans you can all stop your whining and turn to page fourteen' he glared around the room, challenging any of the other students to defy him.

Stiles buried his head in his hands; he really couldn't deal with Coach's attitude today. He hadn't slept at all that night and was in no mood to sit in a stuffy classroom listening to a sociopath drawl on about taxes. He tapped his pen on the side of the table and glanced towards at the clock; only another 55 minutes of hell to go. 'Stilinski!' yelled Coach, right next to Stiles' ear, making him jump and fall off his chair. Coach straightened up and grinned, pleased with himself about having caught another pupil unawares during their daydreaming. Stiles glared up at him from the floor, rubbing at the back of his head. 'I'll take him to the nurse' offered Scott, starting to get up. 'Oh no you don't, McCall' said Coach, waving the boy back into his seat 'oh no – Lahey –' Isaac's head shot up 'you take him'.

Isaac hauled himself out of his seat and put out a hand, yanking Stiles up from the floor, before striding off to the nurse without turning to see if the other boy was following. He navigated through the maze of corridors, listening out for Stiles' footsteps behind him; he spun just in time to catch the boy as he fell forward, going limp in his arms. 'Stiles!' he choked, stumbling under the sudden weight, his voice filled with panic and concern. He felt Stiles' stomach clench as he started to retch and Isaac's worry tripled. He swiftly slung Stiles' arm around his shoulders and dragged him through the hallway.

Lounging uncomfortably in the hard plastic chairs outside the nurse's office, Isaac waited for her to finish examining Stiles. Finally the door opened and the usually energetic boy shuffled out lamely, accompanied by the receptionist. 'He has a mild concussion' she told Isaac 'he needs to go home'. He stood so that Stiles could lean on him for support, 'I'll take him now'; he may have just signed himself up to be a baby sitter, but at least it gets him out of Economics. He set off towards the parking lot, tugging a semi conscious Stiles along with him.

Once he had managed to get Stiles settled in the passenger seat of the jeep without throwing up, Isaac quickly text Scott with an update before climbing behind the wheel. 'Break my jeep and I'll put mountain ash in your bed' came the weak threat from beside him. Isaac smirked; that trademark Stiles' charm never gets old. 'Nice to know that you've still got spirit' he said, turning the key in the ignition. They sat in silence as Isaac drove out of school and towards the town.

Thanks' – it was so quiet that if he didn't have superhuman hearing he would have missed it – 'I didn't know you, yknow, cared'. Isaac was stunned. 'All I did was take you to the nurse's office' he stated incredulously 'Coach told me to'. He glanced at Stiles; he was slumped against the window, staring intently out into the woods. 'No' he managed, licking his lips with the effort, 'for catching me in the corridor – you practically carried me the whole way – I don't think I would have made it alone'. This was a new one for Isaac; he was actually being thanked – not yelled at or punished – someone was honestly showing gratitude for him being himself. It was weird.

He pulled over outside Stile's house, switching the engine off. He got out of the car, walking around it until he was leaning against the passenger door, looking down on Stiles through the open window. Then he did something he'd never done before. He opened up. 'Pack', he said simply, shrugging. Isaac hadn't felt a close bond with anyone since his mother died, but in that moment he accepted his bond to Scott, his bond to the pack, and he let his resolve crumble; the look that Stiles was giving him, welcoming and full of acceptance, made him feel safe. He opened the door and took his new friend's arm, guiding him towards the house. Once he had helped Stiles into bed and made sure he was asleep, he took off running.

Isaac ran deep into the woods, branches scraping at his face, roots trying to trip him up. Superhuman speed really knew how to make you feel alive. He skidded to a halt, spraying leaves and dirt up into the air, just short of the crevasse. This is where he always came when he needed to process his feelings; he had practically lived here in the months after his mother died. He threw himself down on the rocks, panting, resting his head on his knees as he stared down into the consuming inky darkness of the gorge. He shuffled closer, dangling his legs into the pit, his unseeing gaze allowing his mind to run wild. Thoughts instantly turned to pack, and how he finally belonged somewhere, somewhere that he felt wanted. He smiled to himself. Proud. She would have been proud.

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