After about the fifth time that Isaac had either been beaten unconscious, induced hypothermia, or had his abdomen ripped open, Scott had had enough. He announced that Isaac was going home with him, silently daring Derek to make an issue of it. But apparently Derek had had enough conflict for one day.
“Go with Scott,” relented Derek, glaring back at Scott.
The exchange left Scott seething, upset with Derek’s unrepentant attitude towards the situation that Scott squarely placed on the alpha’s shoulders. Wars were not always won on a battlefield. And yet each day it seemed that Derek led them into a new battle, pushing their physical limits past their breaking points. They were all lucky to still be alive.
The ride was quiet to Scott’s house as he stewed over the recent clash with the alpha pack. He replayed the attack over in his head, watching as each of them was on the receiving end of an alpha-tastic beating. He looked over at Isaac slumped in the passenger seat and his anger was renewed. Isaac’s eyes were barely open and he cradled his left arm close to his body, his clothes soaked in his own blood. The sight broke Scott’s heart. Isaac had lost so much for someone so young, and it seemed that life wasn’t done beating the shit out of him. But that’s where Scott came in. They were werewolves but they were also still people, and right now Isaac didn’t need his alpha, he needed a friend.
When they finally made it to his house, Scott took Isaac upstairs and ushered him into the bathroom next to his bedroom. Once he was convinced Isaac wouldn’t immediately pass out, he allowed him to take a shower to wash away the blood and grime and hopefully a little of the memory of the night’s earlier activities.
Isaac emerged twenty minutes later, looking more refreshed but no less exhausted.
“Hey,” said Scott, more his usual upbeat self once he didn’t have to look at Isaac covered in blood, “How ya feelin’?”
“I’m okay,” shrugged Isaac.
“No offense, dude, but you don’t look okay. You look like you’re about to fall over. Sit down or something.”
“I’m fine,” repeated Isaac, but he sat down on Scott’s bed anyway.
“Okay, well, are you hungry?” asked Scott, hoping he could do something for Isaac. “I can make something. Nothing too fancy. Maybe mac and cheese? Frozen pizza? Tater tots?”
Isaac considered the thought of food but didn’t seem too interested. “Do you have anything to drink? Maybe some juice?”
“Oh, yeah,” replied Scott. “I think we’ve got orange juice? Is that okay?”
Isaac nodded tiredly.
“Cool, I’ll be right back.”
Scott went downstairs and into the kitchen to find that he thankfully wasn’t lying about the orange juice. He poured two large glasses and, before making his way back upstairs, shoved a container of Pringles under his arm for good measure.
What he found when he got back to his room wasn’t much of a surprise. Isaac was curled up on his bed, sound asleep. Scott smiled fondly as he set the glasses down on the bedside table. He tried to gently pull the blanket at the foot of the bed out from under Isaac’s long legs but it jostled him enough to startle him awake.
“Scott…” breathed Isaac, turning over onto his back.
“It’s okay, Isaac,” whispered Scott, draping the blanket over Isaac. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”
Isaac sighed deeply as he closed his eyes again, relaxing back into the mattress.
Scott switched off the light and left Isaac’s drink on the nightstand. He then took his own glass and sat at his desk, quietly munching chips and sipping his drink while keeping watch over his friend.