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Isaac’s running, but from what he isn’t sure. He can smell anger in the air, can feel his own fear building in his chest. Thunderous footsteps echo behind him and no matter how much speed he picks up, he doesn’t seem to get any farther away from the sound.
When he looks up, Isaac’s able to see the moon. It glares, but it’s welcoming. Willing himself to let go, he lets his eyes slip shut, tilts his head back and…
Nothing happens.
Scared, he stops dead in his tracks. He looks to his hands, expecting to see claws where his fingers once were, but instead finds hands with cracked nails, chewed down as far as his fingers will allow. Normal hands. Human hands. And when he parts his teeth, growling low in his throat, waiting to feel his fangs elongate, he’s welcomed with nothing but blunt canines.
Suddenly his senses go. He can no longer smell the anger nor the fear; can’t hear anything beyond the faint thud of someone’s boots on the gravel road.
And that’s when he wonders: just where in the hell is he?
The footsteps stop and the silence sinks in. He’s just about to turn around when he hears the all too familiar voice whisper, “Isaac.”
His blood runs cold.
No, he thinks. No, you’re dead. But as he turns, his legs barely moving, his breath shaken, he looks directly into his father’s face.
He’s holding a leather belt in one hand and blood soaks his shirt. His eyes are stone cold, almost lifeless. And when he opens his mouth, his teeth are rotted; his tongue black.
“Did you think,” he begins, snapping the belt and causing Isaac to flinch, “that you’d get away with this?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Isaac tries to defend.
“Are you trying to say that you didn’t want me dead?” His father – the remains of his father – laughs dryly. “Did you think I didn’t know? I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at me.”
Isaac’s palms begin to sweat, his throat closes up.
He thinks, I never wanted you dead. I never wanted to be alone. But all that comes out is,
“It wasn’t me.”
“It wasn’t you that did what?”
“I didn’t -”
But then his father’s on the move and he’s still snapping that belt, threatening with it. He lunges forward and Isaac falls back onto the road. The gravel cuts into his elbows and bloodies his arms, and when he tries to get to his feet, it’s as if a weight is on his chest, holding him down. He can’t move. He can’t breathe.
The feel of leather cuts into his shoulder, he opens his mouth to yell, but only hears the wind. His hands claw at the road, his nails breaking, his fingertips going raw. The familiar wet heat of blood stains his hands, and as the second blow hits his hip, Isaac gasps and…
Wakes up.
His throat aches, his head is pounding. The sound of his own heartbeat fills his ears, and when he clutches at his collar, pulling his shirt to the side and exposing his shoulder, he doesn’t expect to see the perfectly untouched skin that’s beneath the fabric. And yet, at the same time, he isn’t surprised.
It was only a dream. Just a dream.
But that doesn’t stop him from examining his hands, forcing his claws out and looking at each one with keen eyes. Then he tilts his head back and relaxes, allowing his teeth to come out, poking annoyingly at his bottom lip. He bites down, feels the pain of the tips cutting the surface of his skin and, somehow, feels at ease.
He’s still himself.
A throat is cleared and Isaac’s eyes shoot open, scared.
Looking towards the doorway, he’s able to make out the distinct silhouette of his alpha. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his heartbeat syncing with Isaac’s own. It’s not quite a calm beat, but somehow steady; normal. He clears his throat again and takes a step into Isaac’s room.
“You alright?” Derek asks, his voice strained.
Isaac nods.
“I could hear you downstairs.”
“That’s not a surprise.” Isaac tries his best at a smile. “It’s not like a lot of things are hidden from you.”
“I don’t listen if I don’t have to.”
“But, you don’t have to.”
He grunts and takes another step.
Isaac wants to tell him to go back to his room, to go back to doing whatever it is alphas do, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want Derek with him. Just the presence of the other makes everything feel better. Isaac wonders if maybe the safety he feels, the sudden comfort and knowledge that he’s going to be okay, is similar to the way a child should feel near their parents. Or maybe their siblings. The way he’s never felt around anyone. Not even his own mother.
Derek sits at the edge of Isaac’s bed. His head is down, his hands twisting together. Upon first glance, maybe someone would think that he looks nervous, but Isaac knows better. He’s just letting him know that he isn’t going anywhere, that he’s staying right here in this room until Isaac rolls back over and falls asleep.
“Where’s Peter?”
Derek laughs. “You don’t hear him?”
Closing his eyes, Isaac focuses on the sounds. There’s the faint dripping of water from the creek nearby, the flutter of bat wings. Then suddenly, very loudly, there is an intake of air and a noisy release of it. Peter’s snoring.
Isaac laughs, gently.
“Was it another nightmare?” Derek asks, his voice quiet.
Isaac doesn’t answer because he knows he doesn’t need to. Derek’s only asking for clearance, and sometimes, that can be given with the faintest of heartbeats.
Derek then straightens up, his shoulders stiffen. He breathes heavily through his nose. His stance changes, just barely, as he twists his body only a fraction of the way towards Isaac, and before Isaac knows what he’s doing, he’s clinging to Derek’s side like a frightened child. His body relaxes against the other’s and his heart quickens, not with fear, but with ease.
At times like these, he often wonders what it is within him that goes off whenever Derek is around. It’s as if his senses heighten and dull all at once. He feels a pull in his chest, an itch in his throat, and a pain that won’t subside until he’s touching Derek or really, until Derek is touching him.
“Do you know what it’s like,” Isaac asks, his voice wavering, “to feel scared all the time?”
There’s a soft click in Derek’s throat when he answers, “Yeah, I do.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Losing you.”
Isaac laughs and he isn’t sure why. “How’s that gonna happen?”
“Easily.”
Then the world is flipped sideways as Derek twists and turns until Isaac’s lying on his back with his head on the pillows.
Isaac waits for Derek to nestle himself around him, his arms wrapping around Isaac’s shoulders, before speaking.
“You’re not gonna elaborate?”
Derek smiles, weakly, and shakes his head.
“I won’t leave you.” He pauses. “Not like they did.” And they both know he’s talking about Erica and Boyd.
“You wanted to, though.”
Isaac chews on the inside of his cheek.
“Look, I might not be the best at this and yeah, there are others of us out there…but, I promise you,” Derek leans over him, his eyes glowing red, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“I won’t let anything hurt you, either.”
“They’ll be coming.”
“The alphas?”
He nods. “And they’ll try like hell to get you to change your mind about me.”
Isaac’s hand tangles into the front of Derek’s shirt, his claws growing. He doesn’t mean to cling, but it’s just so hard.
“They’ll want you to join their pack.”
Isaac shakes his head almost violently. “I don’t want another alpha.”
“But they’ll want you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re mine.”
Isaac looks up, both of his hands now gripping Derek’s collar with as much force as he can muster without actually ripping his shirt. “I won’t leave,” he says, again. “I promise. I won’t.”
There’s a faint smile on Derek’s face when he replies, “I know.” And his eyes soften, the red bleeding out. “Now, relax. Go back to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
Derek raises an eyebrow. Then his face is buried into Isaac’s neck, nuzzling against him.
Isaac sighs contently, his entire body relaxing on its own accord. His hands lessen their hold on the other and all but fall to his sides. He tilts his head back, baring his throat. With his eyes screwed shut, he focuses entirely on the feel of Derek’s face against his skin; their scents mixing together.
“I’m weak,” He says, quietly. “I don’t think an alpha pack would want a weak member, do you?”
“You aren’t weak.”
Isaac scoffs, eliciting a threatening growl from the other.
“I said you’re not,” Derek mumbles.
“Does that automatically mean I’m really not? Or -”
Derek pulls back, his face hard. “Don’t challenge me.”
Isaac’s eyes downcast, his heart picks up. “I wasn’t trying to.”
A gentle hand cups the side of Isaac’s face, a finger trailing over the corner of his mouth. Then he feels Derek nosing at his cheek, his breath warm against Isaac’s lips.
“Don’t do that to yourself,” he says, although it sounds more like a demand. “You’re a strong wolf. Beta or not.”
“Strong wolves don’t fall in battle.”
“You didn’t fall.”
Isaac chokes back a laugh, “I distinctively remember Allison’s knives taking me down.”
“And I remember you getting back up.”
Isaac sighs. Maybe he shouldn’t try so hard to find faults in Derek’s words.
“Besides,” he continues, his nose now rubbing against the underside of Isaac’s jaw, “I fell more than you did in that fight.”
“You were taking on Jackson by yourself.”
“And I was stupid to think I could.”
Isaac’s chest restricts as the smell of defeat pours off of Derek in waves.
“I’ve always needed you.”
He goes to reply, thinks about being wry with his words, but then he feels Derek’s hands on his hips, holding him down and reminding him that even though he thinks Isaac is strong and maybe even feral when need be, he’s one step below him and he’s not one to argue with his alpha.
Derek begins to rub the tip of his nose to Isaac’s own and Isaac remembers when this type of affection used to be called Eskimo kisses, but as the months pass and these form of kisses come nearly every night, he’s starting to realize that it isn’t some chaste show of affection, but instead something much more than that. Something that makes his brain turn off, and makes his heart nearly beat out of his chest. It’s not a kiss, nothing near what a kiss feels like, but it’s something intimate. Something only Derek does with him.
Isaac rubs the tip of his nose in return, nuzzles his face to Derek’s face and sighs when Derek’s lips ghost over his mouth. Then he’s kissing Isaac and it’s soft and gentle – everything Derek is not. And it feels perfect.
“You need to sleep.” Derek says.
“I need you.”
There’s the pressure of Derek’s hips against Isaac’s thighs and a burning in the pit of his stomach that almost hurts. He isn’t completely in touch with this side of his needs, or really sure of how his body is reacting. He may be a guy, but he’s not an experienced one and Derek knows that. And Isaac thinks maybe that’s why he pulls away, his face serious.
“Another time,” he says, his thumb trailing over Isaac’s neck. “But, tonight you need to sleep.”
“Will you stay?”
“If you want me to.”
Isaac doesn’t say either yes or no, but Derek still lies down next to him. His body is heavy at Isaac’s side, his hands warm where they touch. He feels the other grab his hip and pull him in, their bodies all but melding together.
“I’m here,” Derek says into his hair. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Isaac nods into the crook of Derek’s neck, inhaling his musk and drinking it in. He wonders if this is something reserved only for him. If Derek is somehow his mate or…whatever they’re called. It’s the only possible answer, he thinks. There’s just no other way to explain the flutter in his stomach, or the comfort in his bones. When he’s with Derek, when he’s being held and loved, he feels whole. It’s almost as if his soul was incomplete his entire life and it’s only now that he’s finding the piece that was missing.
It feels so right, so wonderful, that Isaac knows he’ll never need anyone else, no matter what. And he’ll never leave. Even if Derek begs him to.