Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One: The Breaking Point

The apartment was quiet when Isaac stepped inside. The familiar scent of home—Stiles’ cologne, the faint chlorine from his swim bag, the lingering spices from their last meal together—hung in the air. For a brief moment, it felt like any other night. Like he’d come home to Stiles complaining about sore muscles or another ridiculous training schedule. Like nothing was wrong.

But then the scent changed.

The moment he inhaled, his entire body locked up. His wolf bristled under his skin, every nerve in his body going cold.

Derek.

Isaac didn’t need to see it. He knew.

The sharp, primal scent of arousal. The tangled mix of Stiles and Derek, intertwined in a way that shouldn’t exist—that never should have existed.

A numbness settled over Isaac as he took slow, measured steps toward their shared bedroom. His hands clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out everything except the sound of movement behind the half-closed door. A quiet sigh. Stiles’ voice, muffled and content.

The world tilted.

Isaac pushed open the door.

Stiles. Naked. Tangled in Derek’s arms.

Derek’s face was turned away, but Stiles—Stiles was right there, blinking hazily in the dim light, flushed and spent, oblivious to the fact that Isaac was standing in the doorway, watching his entire world collapse.

The breath left Isaac’s lungs in a rush. A sharp, painful exhale that sounded far too much like a laugh.

He didn’t mean to laugh. It just happened. A broken, quiet chuckle, so soft it barely left his lips.

But Stiles heard it.

His head snapped up, confusion morphing into wide-eyed horror as he registered Isaac standing there.

"Isaac—"

Everything exploded into motion at once.

Stiles scrambled upright, his limbs tangled in the sheets, panic twisting his features. Derek was already moving, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor, yanking them on with frantic urgency.

"Wait—wait!" Stiles nearly tripped over himself as he grabbed for his boxers, shoving them on before lunging forward. "Isaac, please, just—just let me explain!"

A hand caught his wrist—Derek’s. Even now, Derek was trying to protect him.

Isaac had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

His lips curled, something bitter rising in his throat as he took a slow step back.

He should have seen this coming. All the excuses. All the times Stiles told him, “Not yet,” or, “After the Olympics,” or, “Once I win a medal, then we’ll bond.”

Lies.

Isaac let out another breathless, humorless laugh. His chest ached, raw and hollow.

"Isaac, please," Stiles tried again, reaching for him.

Isaac jerked back violently, the motion sharp enough that Stiles flinched.

Derek took a step forward. “Isaac, listen—”

“Don’t.”

The word came out quiet, dangerous, final.

Derek froze.

Stiles’ face crumpled, his mouth opening, but no words came out.

Isaac exhaled, shaking his head as a strange, hollow calm washed over him.

"This is the last time you ever get to touch me," he said, voice cold, empty. His gaze flickered between them—his soulmate and his Alpha, the two people he trusted most in the world.

The ones who had destroyed him.

Isaac turned.

And this time, when Stiles tried to grab him, he didn’t stop walking.

Chapter Text

Isaac didn’t know where he was going when he left. He just walked—out of the apartment, down the street, past familiar landmarks that blurred together in his vision.

His legs carried him on instinct, but his mind was somewhere else. Still in that bedroom. Still seeing Stiles scrambling to cover himself. Still hearing his name in Stiles’ broken voice. Still feeling Derek’s gaze on him, cautious but not apologetic.

The betrayal sat heavy in his chest, pressing against his ribs like a weight he couldn’t shake.

It wasn’t until his lungs burned that he realized he had been running.

The cold night air bit at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the aching hollowness inside him.

He didn’t go back to the apartment. Couldn’t.

Instead, he found himself at Erica and Boyd’s place.

When Erica opened the door and saw his face, her smirk immediately vanished.

“I need to leave,” Isaac said, voice raw.

Erica blinked, then glanced over her shoulder at Boyd before stepping aside to let Isaac in.

They didn’t ask questions—not yet. They didn’t need to. Isaac sat down on the couch, his hands clenched together so tightly his knuckles were white.

And then, without warning, he broke.

The tears came hard and fast, and no matter how much he tried to swallow them down, they wouldn’t stop. Silent, gut-wrenching sobs.

Erica and Boyd sat on either side of him, not speaking, just there.

After a long silence, Erica finally asked, "Who do we have to kill?"

Isaac let out something between a sob and a laugh, shaking his head.

“I walked in on them,” he rasped, voice barely above a whisper. “Stiles and Derek.”

Boyd’s hands curled into fists.

Erica inhaled sharply, fury flickering in her eyes. “That—” She cut herself off, grinding her teeth. “I swear to god, Isaac—just say the word.”

“I just… I can’t stay here,” Isaac whispered. “I can’t be in the same pack as them. I can’t—” His voice cracked. “I have to leave.”

Erica didn’t argue. Neither did Boyd.

Because they understood.

Isaac didn’t go back that night. He stayed on their couch, curled in on himself, feeling like his entire world had shattered around him.

But the next morning, he went back.

---

The Confrontation & Bond Severance

The apartment was exactly the same as he had left it.

But it felt different now.

Isaac stepped inside, his chest tight, his hands trembling at his sides.

The second the door clicked shut, Stiles was there.

"Isaac!"

His voice was wrecked, hoarse like he hadn’t slept—like he’d spent the night drowning in the same kind of agony Isaac had.

Derek was standing a few feet behind him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Isaac didn’t care.

He didn’t give them a chance to speak before he said, "I'm leaving."

Stiles froze. "What?"

Isaac exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm leaving Beacon Hills."

The words felt final.

And they were.

Derek's jaw tensed—but he didn’t say anything. He must have known there was nothing to say.

Stiles, though—Stiles wasn’t ready to let go.

"You—you don’t have to go," Stiles said, desperate now, shaking his head. "Isaac, please, just—just talk to me, okay? We can—"

"There's nothing left to say." Isaac's voice came out calm, detached.

But then he looked at Stiles.

Really looked at him.

And the rage inside him finally ignited.

Isaac took a step forward, his breath sharp and uneven.

"I should have seen this coming," he whispered. "I should have known."

Stiles flinched.

"All those times you told me 'not yet'—all those times you made excuses. I should have realized it wasn’t about your stupid training schedule. You were never going to bond with me, were you?"

Stiles’ throat bobbed, but he didn’t answer.

And that was answer enough.

Isaac’s breath hitched, but he didn’t let the pain show. Instead, he turned his gaze to Derek.

"You were my Alpha," he said, voice cold as ice. "I trusted you."

Derek said nothing.

But his jaw tightened, his shoulders tense, his heartbeat betraying the fact that he felt guilty.

Good.

Isaac let out a slow breath, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"I hope it was worth it," he said quietly.

Stiles shook his head, frantic now. “Isaac, please—”

But Isaac was already moving. He took a steady breath, eyes locked on Stiles as he spoke the words that would sever their bond completely.

"I, Isaac Lahey, reject you, Stiles Stilinski, as my mate and wish upon the Moon Goddess for a second chance with another."

The moment the words left his lips, a violent, gut-wrenching pain ripped through Stiles.

Stiles screamed, his body collapsing to the floor, hands clutching at his chest like something inside him was being torn apart.

"NO!" he gasped, reaching for Isaac, desperation twisting his face.

But Isaac didn’t stop.

He turned his gaze to Derek, whose wolf was already reacting—his breathing sharp, his body trembling.

Isaac lifted his chin.

"I, Isaac Lahey, break the pack bond between me and Derek Hale."

Derek stumbled backward like he had been punched, his breath leaving him in a ragged gasp. His eyes flashed red—then flickered back to blue, like his wolf was fighting to keep its footing.

"Isaac, stop," Derek choked, taking a step forward.

Stiles was still writhing on the ground, panting, eyes glassy with pain. "Isaac, please," he whimpered.

But it was too late.

Isaac felt it snap—both bonds, the soulmate tie and the pack connection, breaking like fragile threads.

For the first time since being turned, he was truly alone.

And he had never felt so free.

Isaac exhaled, the last of his ties to them severed.

Without another word, he turned.

And this time, he didn’t look back.

---

Chapter Text

Isaac wasn’t going to show up.

He had no reason to.

He had done what he needed to do. He had severed the bond, made his decision, and started packing to leave Beacon Hills.

But then Erica’s text came through.

Scott just punched him in the face.

Isaac blinked at his phone.

Then sighed.

And left to watch the fallout.

---

Confrontation at the Lacrosse Field

By the time Isaac arrived, a circle had formed on the field.

Stiles stood in the center, one hand pressed to his face, blood dripping from his nose. He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling unevenly, his eyes wide with panic as he looked around at the pack surrounding him.

Scott was a few feet away, shaking with fury, fists still clenched from the punch. His heartbeat was erratic, his eyes dark with disgust and betrayal.

Lydia was off to the side, seething, arms crossed so tightly her nails dug into her skin.

Erica stood just a little too close to Stiles, her entire body bristling with rage, while Boyd stood just behind her, his expression unreadable—but his silence felt like a loaded gun, heavy with quiet promises of pain.

The moment Isaac stepped forward, all eyes turned to him.

And Stiles—Stiles looked like he was about to break all over again.

His lips parted, his hands shaking at his sides.

"Isaac, I—"

"No."

Scott's voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade.

Stiles flinched, whipping his head toward his best friend, but Scott was already shaking his head.

“No,” Scott repeated, voice low, furious. “You don’t get to speak to him.”

Stiles reeled back, face crumpling. "Scott, please, I—"

"You are so lucky that punch is all you got," Lydia snapped, stepping forward.

Erica scoffed, dangerous and wild-eyed, rolling up her sleeves. “Yeah, because trust me, I was ready to do worse.”

Stiles turned his gaze to Scott, pleading now. "Scott, please, I know what I did was messed up, but I—"

Scott let out a harsh, bitter laugh.

"You don’t know?" His eyes flashed red for a split second, claws flickering at his sides before he forced them back.

Then he let loose.

"I didn’t think you were that stupid," Scott snapped. "I didn’t think you were a cheater. I can't believe you did this to Isaac!"

Stiles opened his mouth, but Scott talked over him.

"You don’t deserve him. You never did," Scott growled. "And even though some of us can't leave the pack right now, you've broken us apart. And I will never forgive you for that."

Stiles staggered back like he had been physically struck.

His chest rose and fell erratically, mouth opening and closing, like he was trying to form words but couldn't.

Then, finally, he found something to latch onto.

"It was only once!"

The lie rippled through the air.

And the entire pack heard his heartbeat stutter.

Isaac’s stomach dropped.

Lydia’s eyebrows lifted in disgust. “Are you actually lying to us right now?”

Stiles froze.

His mouth opened again, this time in panic. "I—"

"I HEARD THAT," Erica shrieked, lunging at him.

Stiles barely had time to react before Erica’s claws were at his throat, her nails pressing just enough to let him know she wasn’t bluffing.

"You lying, cheating, pathetic excuse for a mate!" she screamed, her voice raw with rage. "He gave you everything, and you threw it away for what? A quick fuck?!"

Stiles gasped, scrambling to pull Erica’s hands off his throat, but she tightened her grip.

"I SHOULD RIP YOUR DAMN THROAT OUT!"

"ERICA!"

Scott grabbed her around the waist, yanking her off Stiles before she could make good on her threat.

She snarled in frustration, claws swiping at the air as Scott struggled to hold her back.

"You think you get to sit here and LIE to us?!" she screamed, still trying to break free. "It was only once?! We all heard your heartbeat, Stiles!"

Stiles paled.

His wild gaze snapped to Boyd, desperate for help.

But Boyd just stood there.

Silent.

Unmoving.

His eyes locked onto Stiles with that deep, quiet stare.

The kind of stare that didn’t need words.

It was a warning. A promise. A death sentence.

Stiles’ breathing turned shallow, panicked.

"Guys, please," he gasped. "I—I didn’t mean it!"

But that was another lie.

And his heartbeat gave him away.

Isaac felt nothing.

Nothing but the distant echo of what once was.

He had made his choice.

And so had the pack.

Stiles stood alone.

---

Isaac’s Last Goodbye

Isaac didn’t stay to watch the rest of the fallout.

He turned away, walking off the field without another word.

There was nothing left for him here.

Beacon Hills was not his home anymore.

And he wasn’t looking back.

---

Chapter Text

Isaac didn’t stop walking until he was out of sight of the lacrosse field.

He kept moving, kept breathing, kept existing—even though everything in him felt shattered beyond repair.

He had expected the severance to hurt. He had prepared for it.

What he hadn’t expected was the emptiness.

The silence in his mind where Stiles used to be.

The lack of a connection where the pack bond with Derek had once anchored him.

For the first time since being bitten, Isaac was truly alone.

And maybe that was what he needed.

---

Leaving Beacon Hills

The bus station was quiet at dawn.

Isaac sat on the bench, staring at the crumpled one-way ticket in his hand.

The destination didn’t matter. As long as it wasn’t here.

Erica and Boyd were the only ones who showed up to see him off.

Lydia had texted her goodbyes, and Scott… Scott had simply said, “If you ever need me, just call.”

And that was enough.

Isaac turned to Erica and Boyd, his chest tightening. "You guys don't have to be here."

Erica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, we are."

Boyd gave a simple nod, his presence solid as ever. "You're not going through this alone."

Isaac swallowed, the lump in his throat making it harder to breathe.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Erica punched his shoulder—not gently.

"You better text, dumbass," she muttered, her voice rough with emotion.

Isaac let out a soft laugh. "I will."

The bus pulled up.

Isaac stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

This was it.

The moment he finally let go.

Without another word, he stepped onto the bus, took a seat by the window, and watched as Beacon Hills faded into the distance.

---

Starting Over

The city was different.

Louder. Bigger. Lonelier.

Isaac found a place to stay—small, cheap, but enough to get by.

He got a job. Nothing glamorous. Just something to pay the bills while he figured out what the hell he was supposed to do with himself.

For the first few weeks, he kept to himself.

He didn’t trust easily anymore. Didn’t want to get attached.

But then, one night at a bar, someone slid into the seat across from him, a cocky smirk on their face.

“Hey, pretty boy. You look like you need a distraction.”

Isaac blinked. “What?”

The stranger just grinned, sipping their drink. “You up for some fun, or are you just going to sit there brooding all night?”

And for the first time in weeks, Isaac thought, Why the hell not?

---

Casual Dating & Learning to Let Go

Isaac wasn’t looking for love.

Not yet.

But he went on dates.

Had flings.

Let himself exist outside of Stiles.

Some were fun. Some were forgettable. Some reminded him what it felt like to be wanted again.

But none of them felt like home.

And maybe that was the point.

Maybe Isaac needed to find himself before he found anyone else.

---

Meanwhile, in Beacon Hills…

Stiles was falling apart.

The bond severance had left him wrecked, the pain in his chest never truly fading.

He threw himself into training. Pushed harder. Swam longer.

But nothing helped.

Nothing could fill the void Isaac left behind.

And the worst part?

It was his own damn fault.

---

Chapter Text

Isaac had been in the city for almost a year.

In that time, he had gone on casual dates, had flings, and let himself just be.

But nothing stuck.

Because deep down, Isaac knew what he really wanted.

He wanted stability.

He wanted something real.

And that was when he met Alex.

---

~Meeting Alex~

They met at a coffee shop, of all places.

Isaac had been half-asleep, staring blankly at his phone, when a voice cut through his thoughts.

“You look like you hate being alive right now.”

Isaac blinked, looking up.

The person standing in front of him was smirking, eyes bright with amusement.

Isaac sighed. “I’m fine.”

Alex tilted their head. “Yeah, no, I don’t believe that. Want some company, or should I leave you to your brooding?”

Isaac hesitated.

But then, for some reason, he nodded.

And just like that, everything changed.

---

Something Different

Alex was different from anyone Isaac had ever been with.

They were steady. Kind. Understanding.

They didn’t push, didn’t expect anything Isaac wasn’t ready to give.

And maybe that was why Isaac let himself fall.

Because for the first time in a long time, he felt safe.

And after everything, that meant more than anything else.

---

~One Year Later~

Isaac and Alex had been together for over a year.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good.

Isaac finally felt like he had a life outside of his past.

And yet…

Something still felt off.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy.

He was.

But there was a part of him—a small, buried part—that still felt… incomplete.

He tried to ignore it.

Tried to bury it under love and routine and comfort.

But in the end, some things couldn’t be ignored forever.

---

Meanwhile, in Beacon Hills…

Stiles was not okay.

He had spent the last year trying to fix himself, trying to become better.

And for what?

Isaac was gone.

And Stiles had no idea if he was ever coming back.

---

Chapter Text

Isaac had spent over a year in a stable, loving relationship with Alex.

They had built something good—something healthy, something safe.

But lately, something felt off.

It wasn’t Alex.

Alex was as steady as ever, always supportive, always understanding.

It was Isaac.

Because no matter how much he loved Alex, no matter how much he wanted this to work, there was still something inside him that felt empty.

Something unfinished.

Something he had tried to bury for the last year.

And no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t going away.

---

The Moment He Realized It Was Over

They were sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Alex was curled into his side, their fingers tangled with his, their breathing slow and steady.

Isaac should have felt content.

He should have felt at peace.

But instead, all he felt was restless.

Like something inside him was screaming at him to pay attention.

And then Alex shifted, turning to look at him.

“You’re not really here, are you?” they asked softly.

Isaac’s breath caught in his throat.

Because he couldn’t lie.

Not to them.

“…No,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Alex nodded, like they had already known the answer.

“I think we need to talk,” they said.

And just like that, everything started falling apart.

---

The Breakup

They sat across from each other, neither of them speaking at first.

Isaac swallowed hard, his hands clenched into fists on his knees.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said finally.

Alex gave him a soft, sad smile.

“I know.”

A long silence stretched between them.

Then Alex sighed.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Isaac flinched. “I don’t—” He stopped himself, exhaling shakily. “It’s not that simple.”

Alex tilted their head. “Isn’t it?”

Isaac had no answer for that.

Because maybe it was that simple.

Maybe it had always been.

Alex reached across the space between them, resting their hand over his.

“I love you, Isaac. But I think… I think we were always meant to be a chapter, not the whole story.”

Isaac’s chest tightened painfully.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

Alex squeezed his hand. “You won’t.”

And that was the thing about Alex.

They had never been selfish. Never been unfair.

They loved Isaac enough to let him go.

And for that, he would be grateful forever.

---

Still Best Friends

The breakup wasn’t messy.

It wasn’t angry.

It was just… sad.

But even after it was over, they didn’t leave each other’s lives.

Alex stayed his best friend, the one person he could still talk to, the one person who still understood.

And when the time finally came for Isaac to face his past, Alex was the first one to tell him, “Go. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

---

Meanwhile, in Beacon Hills…

Stiles had spent the last year trying to change.

Trying to be better.

But none of it mattered if Isaac never came back.

And the worst part?

He didn’t deserve for him to.

---

Chapter Text

---

Isaac hadn’t planned on going back to Beacon Hills.

Not ever.

But after the breakup with Alex, something inside him shifted.

For the first time in over a year, he let himself think about Stiles.

Really think about him.

Not as the boy who broke him, but as the person who had once been everything to him.

And it was time to face the past.

---

Returning to Beacon Hills

The town felt smaller than he remembered.

The same streets. The same places. The same suffocating memories.

Isaac had been gone for over a year, but Beacon Hills had never really left him.

He took a slow breath, standing in front of the old loft.

The place where he had once belonged.

But when he stepped inside, it was Derek who saw him first.

And Derek looked like he had seen a ghost.

---

Derek’s Guilt

Derek didn’t speak at first.

He just stood there, staring, his face unreadable.

Then, finally, he exhaled.

“…Isaac.”

Isaac lifted an eyebrow. “Surprised to see me?”

Derek swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

Isaac tilted his head, crossing his arms. “Didn’t think I’d be able to stay away forever, huh?”

Derek hesitated.

“No,” he admitted. “But I thought… if anyone had a right to leave and never come back, it was you.”

Isaac scoffed. “Nice to know you still have some self-awareness.”

Derek’s jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face.

He took a breath like he was about to say something important.

Then, quietly, he said, “I’m sorry.”

Isaac blinked. “That’s it?”

Derek held his gaze. “Yeah.”

Isaac laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, do you?”

Derek’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t answer.

Isaac shook his head.

His next words were sharp, cutting. “You were my Alpha, Derek.”

Derek’s lips pressed together.

Isaac’s voice didn’t rise, but it gained weight—a quiet, furious gravity that made Derek’s shoulders go rigid.

“You were the first person to make me feel safe after my dad. You gave me a home. You weren’t a perfect Alpha—hell, half the time, I don’t even think you knew what the hell you were doing—but you tried. You gave me a place where I belonged. I thought of you like a brother, but I guess it wasn't mutual.”

Derek looked down, but Isaac wasn’t done.

“You knew what I went through, Derek,” Isaac continued, voice unwavering. “You knew what it was like to have the people you trusted the most betray you. You knew how much I cared about Stiles. And you still—” He let out a bitter breath. “You still fucked him.”

Derek’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

“I know,” he said, voice rough. “And I don’t have an excuse.”

Isaac scoffed. “No, you don’t.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Isaac exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “And what pisses me off the most?” He let out a sharp breath. “You were the one who told me I was strong. That I could trust you. That I was part of the pack. And then you just—” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to keep going. “You made me think I wasn’t enough. That I never was.”

Derek closed his eyes for half a second, as if he was trying to steady himself.

Isaac let the silence settle before speaking again.

His voice dropped into something cold, razor-edged, and merciless.

“You know what I keep thinking about, something that for me makes what you did even worse?” Isaac asked.

Derek hesitated. “…What?”

Isaac stepped closer, voice dropping lower.

“Kate Argent.”

Derek froze.

Isaac saw the way his entire body locked up, the way his breathing grew shallow.

But he didn’t stop.

“You were fifteen, right?” Isaac continued, his tone sharper than claws. “She seduced you. Tricked you. Made you fall in love with her. Made you think that you might have a second chance soulmate after Paige.”

Derek’s shoulders were rigid and his breath shallow.

“And then she destroyed your family. Burned your home with them in it to the ground.”

Derek’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Isaac scoffed.

“And now here you are,” he said, “sleeping with a kid barely out of high school. Someone you knew since he was sixteen. Someone you knew was my soulmate.”

Derek’s breath shuddered.

“It’s not the same,” he murmured, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Isaac tilted his head. “Isn’t it? You would think after your experience with her, you wouldn't have did what you did.”

Derek still didn’t look at him.

Isaac’s voice sharpened. “Stiles was a teenager, Derek. A kid. Eighteen and legal? Sure. But you were twenty-six. Do you get how fucked up that is?”

Derek swallowed hard.

“I never—” Derek started, but Isaac cut him off.

“Never what? Never groomed him? Never took advantage?” Isaac scoffed. “Maybe you didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t change the fact that you should’ve known better.”

Derek finally looked up, his jaw clenched, his expression tight. “I do know that,” he said quietly.

Isaac shook his head.

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have done it.”

Derek exhaled through his nose. “I was… in a bad place.”

Isaac’s eyes burned with frustration.

“We were all in a bad place, Derek. You think I wasn’t? I was fucking devastated. I lost my soulmate. I lost my pack. And you—” He shook his head. “You knew what it felt like to lose everything.”

Derek had no words.

Because there was no answer.

Isaac’s chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

Finally, Derek swallowed, his voice hoarse. “I really am sorry, Isaac.”

Isaac let the words sit between them.

Then he scoffed. “Good for you.”

Derek blinked, caught off guard.

Isaac didn’t soften. “I don’t forgive you. Probably never will.”

Derek’s mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to say something, but Isaac beat him to it.

“You were my Alpha.”

Derek exhaled heavily. “I know.”

Isaac looked at him for a long moment.

Then he turned toward the door.

Derek’s voice stopped him.

“Isaac.”

Isaac didn’t turn back.

“You were pack,” Derek said softly. “You still are.”

Isaac closed his eyes.

Then he walked out the door.

And he didn’t look back.

~Stiles Sees Him~

Isaac had been back for less than a day when Stiles finally saw him.

It happened at the grocery store, of all places.

Isaac had been reaching for something on the shelf when he heard the sharp intake of breath behind him.

And when he turned—

Stiles was standing there, frozen like he had been hit by lightning.

Isaac blinked.

Then sighed. “Well. That’s anticlimactic.”

Stiles stared, his throat bobbing, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out but didn’t dare.

“…You came back,” Stiles whispered.

Isaac hummed, turning back to the shelf. “Looks that way.”

Silence.

Then—

“I—I didn’t think you ever would.”

Isaac exhaled sharply, grabbing what he needed before looking back at him.

“I didn’t think I would either,” he admitted.

Stiles visibly swallowed.

He looked like he had so much to say.

But he also looked like he knew he had no right to say any of it.

And for the first time, Isaac saw something he hadn’t expected.

Because the old Stiles?

He would have made excuses.

Would have begged, pleaded, pushed.

But this Stiles?

He just stood there. Silent.

And Isaac wasn’t sure what to do with that.

---

Avoidance

Isaac left without another word.

He didn’t look back.

And when he stepped outside, he took a deep breath like he had been holding it in the entire time.

Running into Stiles that soon had been unexpected.

Too soon.

Isaac wasn’t ready for that conversation.

Maybe he never would be.

So he did what he had always done best—he avoided it.

---

Over the next week, he made a point of staying out of Stiles’ way.

If he saw the blue Jeep in the parking lot? He went the other way.

If he caught even a glimpse of Stiles in town? He turned corners like a ghost, vanishing before their eyes could meet.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew Stiles noticed.

And maybe, a small part of him felt petty about that.

But not petty enough to stop.

---

~Reunion with the Pack~

The first people he actually wanted to see were Scott, Erica, Boyd, Lydia, and Liam.

And when they all finally got together at Scott’s house, the tension that had been suffocating Isaac for days finally lifted.

"Holy shit," Erica breathed when she opened the door, eyes going wide.

Then, before Isaac could say a word, she launched herself at him.

Isaac barely caught her, stumbling back a step as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed like she was trying to kill him with affection.

"Okay, this is happening," he muttered, but he didn’t push her away.

Because the truth was?

He needed this.

"I missed you, you asshole," Erica muttered against his shoulder.

Isaac swallowed. "I missed you too."

And he meant it.

Boyd was next, stepping forward with his usual calm, steady presence.

Isaac braced himself for another full-body attack, but Boyd just pulled him into a firm hug, clapping a hand on his back.

"You could’ve called," Boyd murmured.

Isaac exhaled. "I know."

"But you didn’t."

Isaac had no excuse.

But Boyd didn’t push it. He just gave Isaac a small nod before stepping back, letting Lydia be next.

"You look taller," Lydia observed, tilting her head.

Isaac huffed. "I haven’t grown."

Lydia smirked. "You just look like you have."

Then, after a pause, she gave him a softer look.

And, unexpectedly, she hugged him too.

"You deserved better," she whispered, too quiet for the others to hear.

Isaac swallowed, his throat tight.

"I know."

Liam, meanwhile, was buzzing with nervous energy.

He hadn’t known Isaac for as long as the others, but there was still excitement in his voice when he greeted him.

"Dude, you’re back! How long are you staying?"

Isaac hesitated.

Then, with a small shrug, he said, "Not sure yet."

Scott, who had been silent this entire time, finally stepped forward.

Isaac braced himself.

Scott wasn’t like the others.

He wouldn’t rush him, wouldn’t push him, wouldn’t demand anything.

And yet, somehow, that made Isaac more nervous.

Because Scott had always been the kind of person who saw through him no matter how hard he tried to hide.

"Hey," Scott said softly.

Isaac swallowed. "Hey."

Scott studied him for a second.

Then, he smiled.

"Welcome home, man."

Isaac let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

And for the first time in a long time—

He felt like maybe he was.

---

A New Beginning?

Isaac didn’t make any decisions that night.

He didn’t know if he could ever forgive Stiles.

But for the first time, he wasn’t completely closed off to the idea.

And that?

That was something.

---

Meanwhile, in Stiles’ Head…

He’s back.

Isaac was back.

And Stiles wasn’t going to mess this up again.

Not this time.

Chapter Text

Isaac being back in Beacon Hills changed everything.

For over a year, Stiles had forced himself to accept that Isaac was gone.

That he had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him.

That he didn’t deserve a second chance.

But now?

Now, Isaac was back.

And even though Stiles knew he had no right to hope, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it anyway.

But hope didn’t mean shit if he wasn’t willing to earn it.

Rock Bottom Hits Hard

The thing about hitting rock bottom was that Stiles had thought he had already been there.

After Isaac left. After the bond severed. After the pack turned their backs on him.

But now?

Now, seeing Isaac again and knowing he still wasn’t enough?

That was rock bottom.

Because the worst part wasn’t the way Isaac didn’t look at him the same way anymore.

It was the way he didn’t even seem angry anymore.

Like Stiles wasn’t even worth his anger anymore.

And somehow, that was worse than anything.

Pushing Himself to Change

For months after Isaac left, Stiles had told himself he was changing.

That he was working on himself.

That he was better now.

But the truth?

The truth was that he had been waiting.

Waiting for Isaac to come back. Waiting for an easy fix that would make everything okay again.

And now, standing in front of Isaac and seeing nothing but indifference in his eyes—he finally got it.

This wasn’t something he could fix with words.

This wasn’t something he could just apologize away.

If he wanted Isaac to even consider forgiving him, he had to become the person Isaac deserved.

And that meant becoming someone better, even if Isaac never came back to him.

~ A YEAR AGO ~

The first thing Stiles did after Isaac left was cut Derek out of his life.

Because if he was being honest?

Derek had never really meant anything to him.

Not in the way Isaac had.

And whatever Derek thought they had, it had never been real.

So the next time he saw Derek at the loft, Stiles stood in front of him and said, "We're done."

Derek frowned. “Stiles, you don’t have to—”

"Yeah. I do."

Stiles took a step closer, voice firm.

"What happened between us? It was a mistake. And if you think for a second that I'm going to sit here and pretend like we can just act like nothing happened—you're out of your damn mind."

Derek’s jaw tightened. “I never asked you to—”

"It doesn’t matter," Stiles cut him off. "Yes ultimately I made my bed so I should lie in it but, this was a mistake I don't love you, let alone like you like I do Isaac." Stiles took a deep breath then continued, "This may sound like an excuse but I was weak and vulnerable, and I thought if I could have you maybe I wouldn't through the pain my dad did when he lost my mom but I was a coward and I didn't see that losing Isaac in this way hurts all the same."

Derek's mouth snapped shut.

Stiles inhaled sharply. "I don’t forgive myself for that, and I don't forgive you because you never even tried to resist or make me see reason, you even flirted with me in the fucked up way you only know how... violence."

"I hate myself right now" and then, just like that, he walked away.

Because Derek wasn’t his problem anymore.

~Becoming Someone Worthy~

The next few months were hard.

Brutal.

Stiles didn’t just train harder—he trained smarter.

He threw himself into his swimming, but this time, it wasn’t a distraction.

It was about discipline.

About pushing himself to be better.

Not for Isaac.

Not for anyone else.

For himself.

Because for the first time, he realized that if he didn’t start truly changing, then he would never be the kind of person Isaac could ever love again.

And if that meant he had to earn his way back into Isaac’s life, inch by inch?

Then so be it.

Meanwhile, Isaac Notices

Isaac had no intention of paying attention to Stiles’ life.

But the more time passed, the harder it was not to notice.

Because Stiles was different.

He was focused. Determined.

He had stopped making excuses.

He had stopped chasing after Isaac—stopped begging for forgiveness.

And that was what made Isaac finally start to listen.

Because for the first time, Stiles wasn’t fighting for a second chance.

He was fighting to be better.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough to make Isaac believe in him again.