Locked to bloodsinging

[firsttofreedom]

Characters: Isaac, Stiles
Date/Time: 2.15pm, Friday
Setting: All over Beacon Hills and then Stiles' house.
Summary: Isaac starts scenting a familiar someone he didn't think he'd be seeing any time soon.
Rating: TBD
Status: Open to Stiles
Warnings: TBD

He'd been headed out onto the lacrosse field when he smelled it; a familiar scent that was both comforting and confusing and he'd dropped his lacrosse gear there and turned to follow it. He headed towards the forest first, stopping every now and again to scent the air.

When he reached the end of the trail, he stopped. Looking up at the Stilinski house, Isaac arched a brow in confusion. This could be right. Stiles hadn't been here in... years. But it was Stiles' scent and it was at his old house. He moved around the house until he stood below Stiles' window, and then, in what was a familiar act -he'd insisted on keeping an eye on Stiles' dad with the teen long gone-, Isaac scaled the wall and snuck in through the window.

Comments

[bloodsinging]

"They didn't...know completely. I went feral, for some reason. It's rare, but happens." Stiles laughed bitterly, looking down at his hands. "Means something's too wild in me. Sometimes people who shouldn't be werewolves don't die...they just become like me." Why not? There were Kanimas, after all. Why couldn't Stiles just be a freak, too.

"...they wouldn't let me stay with them. I've been--alone the past year."

[firsttofreedom]

"You never could do anything by half, could you Stilinski? Just because it didn't work out for you straight away, doesn't mean... There's nothing wrong with you, Stiles."

This time he doesn't hesitate. He reaches out to shove his hands into Stiles' squeezing firmly. "You should have come back home sooner. There's always a place for you here." Derek would have no choice in it, if for whatever reason he got his Alpha knickers in a twist over it. Too many of them would welcome home back with open arms.

[bloodsinging]

"Nope, got to go full on freak, these days." Stiles let out a little huff sound, not entirely convinced at Isaac's declaration that there was nothing wrong with him. There was, and there wasn't really any way for him to forget it.

When Isaac' moves to grab his hands, he stiffens, his claws almost sliding out, unused to contact. He relaxes almost immediately, squeezing back. "Yeah, I just...I just wasn't sure."