Chapter Text
Life after the Kanima takes some getting used to.
It's been a month already, and Isaac is convinced by now that he'll never really be used to it. Without Erica and Boyd around, things are...quiet, or quieter than they had been. And with Derek's uncle around, things are even more tense than before.
To his credit, Peter seems to keep to himself. For the first few weeks while he's still regaining his strength after his resurrection, he stays mostly in his room. He comes down for food, or to peruse the bookshelf, or to give Derek pointers on the reconstruction of their house. Isaac finds it odd, and a little funny, that the man doesn't offer to help. Then again, he's not sure if Derek would even let him if he wanted; the first and only time Isaac asked to help, Derek yelled at him so loudly it made the newly installed window panes rattle.
Later that day, when Isaac is sitting on the porch working on a project for school, Peter exits the house through the front door, keys to the Camaro jingling in his hand.
“Don't mind him, he just feels some twisted sense of honor is driving him to rebuild the family home he helped destroy,” is the explanation he gets in passing, and Peter is already down by the car by the time Isaac connects his voice to his thoughts.
“Where are you going?” out of all of the questions he could have asked, it was the first thing he could manage. Peter leans on the roof of the car, looking across the leaf-covered yard at Isaac. Pondering.
“Into town. Derek needs some things for the construction and I have a sneaking suspicion that we could use a few more grocery items,” Peter's voice sounds teasing and playful, and it sort of makes Isaac want to punch the other Beta, but he settles for a small frown instead. Peter jingles the keys one more time. “Want to come?”
“I've got this project I need to finish...” the words are barely out of Isaac's mouth before Peter is in the car and peeling out of the reserve. Isaac wonders, briefly, if he made the older man angry. Then he realizes that he doesn't actually care, and goes back to his schoolwork.
Isaac gets about a half-hour of work in before his concentration is broken again, this time by the sounds of Derek's frustration somewhere within the house. The sound of wood splintering and tools being thrown startles him out of his comfort zone, and he quickly packs his school bag up and heads for the woods. He walks the road through the preserve until he can't hear Derek's elevated heartbeat anymore, or the Alpha's angered, labored breathing. He doesn't let himself focus on any one thought, just walks and walks and walks. He spots a nice, quiet-looking clearing off the road a bit and thinks maybe he'll stop, sit, listen to the sounds of the woods and finish his work when the Camaro pulls up next to him and Isaac feels himself nearly jump out of his skin. He's instantly ashamed as Peter rolls down the window, face painted in utter amusement. He notices without really paying attention that it's a lot darker than it was when he left the porch of the ruined house.
“Need a ride?” From anyone else, the way the question was posed would have been humorous, but to Isaac, it sounds wrong coming from Peter.
“Uh, no, it's okay, I'm just...” he stops, fishing for an excuse, any reason to avoid getting in the car with Derek's creepy, murderer uncle. He can't come up with a good one. Peter's eyes roll, and Isaac hears the mechanism click as the he hits the auto-unlock on the door.
“Get in the car, pup,” the older Hale's voice grates on Isaac's nerves, that's for sure, and the teen bristles as he rounds the front of the car, getting in the passenger seat and closing the door harder than necessary.
“Don't call me that,” he grumbles, and Peter huffs quietly, rolling the windows back up as he starts along the wooded road at a relatively human speed. Isaac instantly begins fiddling with the radio presets, not surprised that Derek's preset stations are mostly classic rock and alternative. He punches the off button with a dissatisfied exhale of breath, ignores the amusement radiating off of the man driving, and the side-long glances that accompany it.
“Afraid of the silence?” Peter taunts after thirty seconds of car engine, wind whipping, gravel and leaves crunching, and Isaac thinks he might pull his hair out. He grumbles, doesn't want to admit that he's still not used to hearing everything, which he does, and sometimes that's too much for him, a little too existential or something; doesn't want to admit that just sitting and listening has sent him into panic attacks before.
The older man must hear something in Isaac's reluctance to answer; he grabs an iPod sitting in the cup holder, which is linked to the stereo by a thin cord, and passes it over to the teen. Isaac cradles it in his hands awkwardly for a second, looking between the device and Peter. He starts to ask, “Is this-”
“Mine? It definitely isn't Derek's.” That's all the response he gets, and really all he needs, before Isaac is investigating the music on the device. He restarts the last song that the man had been listening to and is mildly surprised when a remix of a mildly popular song comes pumping through the speakers. He must have laughed, because Peter's fingers are wrapping around the device, pulling it out of his hands faster than he can protest.
“Privileges revoked.” The song stops playing and the iPod is back in the cup holder as soon as he blinks.
“Wait, sorry, I just wasn't expecting...” Isaac stops, frowning, and leans forward to press play on the device again. The music begins pumping through the car's speakers again and Isaac closes his eyes, letting himself get absorbed in it.
They reach the house less than a minute later, he can tell before the car even stops because the smell of charred wood is strong enough to his wolf-enhanced sense of smell that he can smell it even through the interior of the car.
He feels the engine shut down, but the music keeps playing, and he can feel Peter watching him for a few seconds before he opens his eyes.
“Sorry,” he mutters, reaching for the door handle, but stops when Peter scoffs.
“You apologize too much. Teenagers are supposed to be completely apathetic and unapologetic,” he tells Isaac as he gets out of the car, pops the trunk, pulls out bag after bag of groceries and hardware. Isaac finally gets out of the passenger seat, schoolbag slung over one shoulder as he accepts the bags being handed to him.
“Sorry, it's-” he stops and laughs once, embarrassed. He notices Peter is still listening, head turned just-so in his direction, attention on him, so he finishes, “It's reflex.”
The older Hale shuts the trunk of the car, and the quiet slam of it seems to reverberate through Isaac's ribs. Turning his attention to the teen fully, his mouth quirks in something resembling both a smirk and a smile.
“It doesn't suit you.”