Thank you, Melissa

The living room was dark, but Isaac heard Melissa come down the stairs. She was wearing thick slippers that padded her footsteps as she crossed the room to the television in the corner.

It wasn't until she turned it on that she noticed Isaac, his form suddenly illuminated by the flickering glow of the static on the screen.

"Oh, Jesus!" she gasped out, a hand flying to her chest as she jumped backwards away from the teen. "Isaac, you scared the heck out of me."

"Sorry Mrs. McCall," the boy said simply, looking up at where she stood from his seat on the sofa. He wasn't used to having to look up at her. He found it slightly disconcerting.

"What are you doing awake?" Melissa whispered, sitting down slowly on the sofa next to him. Isaac suppressed a smile that she didn't even bat an eyelid at him being in her house. Apparently she'd just gotten used to it by now.

"Can't sleep," Isaac said simply "just... I don't know. Can't." He looked over at her. "You?"

"Same," she said simply. "A lot on my mind, that's all."

"Scott?" Isaac asked.

"Yeah."

"Same." There was an awkward moment between them just then. Isaac regarded the woman carefully. She sat looking at him cautiously. Her pink dressing gown was pulled tightly around her, and she bristled with nervousness. She looked ready to jump up from that seat at a moment's notice.

He noticed that her eyes briefly dropped from his face to his chest, quickly scanning the scars that dotted his torso, but she made no mention of it.

"Do you want, I don't know, a glass of water or anything?" she whispered, mercifully breaking the silence. Isaac sure as Hell didn't know what to say in this situation.

"No, thank you Mrs. McCall," he said as politely as he could "why are you whispering?"

Melissa's eyes briefly darted towards the ceiling, but she didn't need to say anything.

"It doesn't matter, you know," Isaac said simply "if he wanted to, he could hear us even if we were outside whispering."

"Because of the...?" she tried to ask, but trailed off and just settled for a waving a hand next to her ear. Isaac got her point.

"Yeah." Another awkward moment. Isaac could tell that line of conversation was still uncomfortable for her.

"Well, look," Melissa said "I know you don't want anything but there's some pizza in the fridge that I'm dying to go to town on, so I'm..." she gestured towards the kitchen. Isaac laughed.

"Actually I could probably go for some pizza," he said "if you don't mind, that is." She was hesitant, but she nodded regardless.

Isaac followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled a plate with about half a large pizza on it out of the fridge and set it down on the table. She sat down, and Isaac sat opposite her. They ate in silence for a while, before Isaac spoke.

"It makes you scared, doesn't it?" She looked at him, as if shocked that he could even speak. She swallowed her bite of pizza.

"If I'm honest?" She hesitated. "It scares the crap out of me."

"That's understandable," Isaac laughed a little, but deep down he felt for her ""I can only imagine how my dad would have reacted to me being this." Again he noticed her eyes drop to his scars, but again she said nothing.

"So," she said instead "that's why Scott's keeping me up. What about you?" Isaac sighed and hung his head, eyes falling on the pair of Scott's sweat pants he was wearing. He wondered how much Melissa wanted to mention that.

"I don't even know," he said slowly "it's just... him. You know? I can ever get what his deal is."

"His deal?" Melissa asked.

"I mean," Isaac explained "he's always so... nice. Like, all the time. It bugs me."

"Someone being nice bugs you?"

"The way he does it, yes," Isaac said "it's like he just doesn't care about himself at all. Everything's about other people. About Stiles. About Jackson. About Lydia. About Derek. About Erica. About Boyd." He looked up at her. "About you. About..." he trailed off. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. God he was pathetic. He hung his head again, unable to look at her. Not wanting her to see him.

"About Allison," she said. He clenched his fist against the wood of the table so hard he swear he felt his knuckles crack. Something deep in his chest roared with anger.

"Oh..." he heard Melissa say. He tried to look up, but he couldn't bring himself to. "I get it now."

"Get what?" he practically spat out the words through clenched teeth.

"Isaac," Melissa said "look at me." He didn't. But then he felt her hand lay gently on his clenched fist. Soft and warm, but surprisingly strong. His muscles relaxed under the touch and he looked up. She was leant forward to touch him. Her face was soft and caring.

"Isaac," she said again, his name said with such care that it almost made him flinch. He wasn't used to it.

"Yes?" He felt like such an idiot in that moment. He didn't know what to say. He felt so hopeless and lame.

"How long have you had feelings for Scott?" If Isaac had been eating anything, he would have choked.

"What? I don't!" He looked towards the window, thinking how easily he could leap through it and run for the hills.

"Hey," Melissa said "relax. And don't even think of ruining my window." Despite himself, Isaac laughed.

"I don't care if you do, by the way," Melissa said simply "it's not like I've got a problem with it. Not like I'm going to ban you from seeing Scott because of it. Hell, it's not like I can stop you doing anything you damn well want to and I sure as Hell can't stop Scott. I went God only knows how long without knowing he was some kind... never mind. The point is, I don't care. Yeah, that's what I was saying."

Isaac couldn't help but laugh at Melissa then. Not because she was funny. Just because she actually seemed to care. Something that always made Isaac a little incredulous.

"I think I do," he croaked out. "He's just..."

"He's just Scott."

"Yeah." And he was. He was just Scott. Just wonderful, stupidly nice Scott. The Scott who puts the well-being of others above his own every single day. The same Scott who was the first person in years to tell Isaac he actually cared about him. The same Scott who had comforted him the first time he took away something's pain. The same Scott who admitted to crying the first time he did the same.

The same Scott who looked after Isaac. The same Scott who gave him a place to stay. Who gave him a taste of normalcy. Who fussed over him when he got hurt, even though they both knew he would heal. Who never asked about Isaac's father, but who listened whenever Isaac was ready to talk about it. Who hugged him when talking led to crying. Who held him until Isaac was done. Who never pushed him away.

"He's just Scott..." Isaac whispered, more to himself than to Melissa. He wasn't even looking at her face, but he knew she was smiling. He was looking at her hand, still closed around his. That must be where Scott gets his ridiculous kindness from. And right then, Isaac wanted to hug her. To hug her for giving her caring to Scott.

"So are you going to tell him?" Melissa asked. Isaac looked up at her.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Do you want my advice?" Melissa asked. Isaac nodded. He found he wanted to hear what she thought he should do, even if this situation wasn't normally the sort of thing you go to someone's mother about.

"My advice is to just tell him," Melissa said "if I know Scott, even if he turns you down." Isaac felt something in his chest and throat tighten at that thought. "Even if he turns you down, he'll never abandon you. It's not in his nature. You know that."

And Isaac knew she was right. He might react badly, but Isaac could never picture Scott just flat-out abandoning him.

"Yeah." That was all he could say. His mind was swimming with thoughts; how would he tell him? When would he tell him? He couldn't even begin to answer any of these things. He just knew he had to do it. He knew he wanted to do it.

Between the two of them, they finished off the pizza in silence. Isaac wanted to ask her about how he should tell Scott how he felt, but he couldn't help but feel it was too awkward to ask that of the guy's mom.

"Well," Melissa said after the pizza was finished, standing up from the table "I'm going to head back to bed."

"Okay," Isaac said "if you don't mind, I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Just... need to think. You know?"

Melissa smiled at him, warm and heartfelt.

"Okay," she said, then surprised the young wolf by moving over to him and leaning down to hug him. It was awkward, given the table in between them, but Isaac wrapped his arms around her nonetheless. It was nice and warm, and comforting. It was like one of Scott's hugs, but different.

"You take all the time you need kid," she said as she pulled away. He nodded and smiled at her.

"Mrs. McCall," Isaac called to her when she was about to leave the kitchen. She turned to look back at him. "Thank you."

"Please, this is what moms are for," she said casually "and you can call me Melissa you know." With a final smile, she slipped out of his vision.

"Thank you Melissa." He said to himself as he sat alone in the kitchen. He heard Melissa's footsteps stop for a second in the living room, then carry across the room and up the stairs.

Isaac didn't know how long he'd spent sat in that kitchen, thoughts going round and round in his head. But by the time he finally stoop up from the table, the early light of dawn was filtering gently through the window.

He walked through the living room and up the stairs, pausing to take a deep breath before opening the door to Scott's room.

Scott was laying exactly the same as when Isaac had left him. Shirtless, the blankets haphazardly kicked off himself and lying tangled around his legs. One arm trailing across the best next to him, the other across his stomach. His face was set in a light frown and his dark brown hair fell chaotically over his head.

Isaac slid into the bed next to him, as he'd done so many times before. He was taller than Scott so it was hard to find a truly comfortable position with the smaller teen, but eventually he settled down with his head rested against Scott's bare shoulder, his body curled up slightly against the boy's side and one leg draped over one of Scott's. As he got into position, Scott shifted slightly, hugging Isaac closer in his sleep, his frown inverting into a small smile that tugged at the very corners of his lips.

As Isaac sighed contentedly, Scott's scent filled his senses. He smelt like home, like family. Like comfort, and like friendship.

Maybe Isaac would tell Scott the truth tomorrow. Maybe he would wait weeks, or even months, before he could work up the nerve to do it.

Right then, he didn't know and he didn't care. He just didn't want to ruin that moment.