Teen Wolf Fic: I Will Keep You Safe and Warm (The On the Run Remix)
Title:I Will Keep You Safe and Warm (The On the Run Remix)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Scott/Isaac
Rating: PG-13
Content Advisory: Mentions of past child abuse
Author's Note:Written for Remix 2014, inspired by Chilled by argentum_ls. Thanks to jaune_chat for beta-ing.
Summary: When Isaac is injured during an escape, Scott finds a way to deal with the ensuing nightmares.
When Isaac opened his eyes, it was dark. Not the pearly grey of the guest room in the McCall house, where light filtered in through gauzy curtains, but complete darkness: the total absence of any source of illumination. He knew this darkness. Isaac splayed out his arms, and his palms hit cold metal. The panicked breath he took in burned his throat, air cold enough to choke him.
The freezer.
His father had left it on, as he occasionally did when Isaac had earned a more severe punishment. Isaac reached up, slapping his hands against the frost-rimed lid as he tried to remember his transgression. “Dad!” he called. “I’m sorry!” The insulated walls of the freezer dampened his voice; he sounded weak, pathetic.
That was wrong. Isaac wasn’t supposed to feel weak anymore. Not ever again. He clenched his fists and called on the wolf within him. Nothing happened. He gulped in a lungful of freezing air and tried again. No shift. Nothing.
“No,” Isaac whispered. He couldn’t have lost his gift, Derek’s gift, the only thing that kept him from falling apart: claws, fur, and rage binding together the otherwise pathetic rag bundle of his life. “No!” He raked his fingers across the heavy lid, but his nails remained stubbornly blunt. He couldn’t escape. He was helpless, alone.
That was wrong, too. Not alone. Never alone. His pack would come for him. “Scott?” he called. Then again, a desperate howl, “Scott!”
Isaac jerked awake, breathing hard. Enough thin moonlight filtered in from the mouth of the cave to reveal its emptiness. Isaac bolted upright, then winced as the wound in his side throbbed in protest. The denim jacket draped loosely around his shoulders began to slip, but he caught it and held on. He pulled the lapel up to his face and breathed in the comforting scent of Scott. He must have left this here on purpose, so Isaac wouldn’t think he’d disappeared.
Isaac edged around the dead ashes of their fire to peer out of the mouth of the cave. Fat snowflakes drifted down to add to the pristine blanket of white covering the woods. Isaac thought he could make out a fading set of tracks leading away from the cave, but he couldn’t be certain.
He tugged Scott’s jacket more tightly around him, like a child’s security blanket. Scott hadn’t abandoned him. He wouldn’t. Even though Isaac was clumsy and slow, hadn’t managed to outpace the hunters who’d picked up their track again. Even though Scott would have a much better chance of making it to the rendezvous with Derek and the others without an injured wolf holding him back. Even though Isaac didn’t deserve to taken care of, or fussed over, or loved, because he was a lazy, worthless-No.
Isaac dug his fingers into the denim so hard his fingernails became claws and pierced the thick fabric. Those were his father’s words, his father’s poisonous influence infecting his thoughts the way it infected his dreams. Isaac didn’t have to listen. Didn’t have to let his father win.
Scott had said he’d keep Isaac safe, and Scott didn’t lie. Even when a comforting lie would have been easy-to hold Isaac in the midst of one of his nightmare flashbacks and say, “It’s not real.” But Scott wouldn’t say that, hadn’t ever told Isaac it was only a dream, or that there was nothing to be afraid of. He’d always said, “I’m here,” and “It’s over,” and “I’ve got you.”
But Scott wasn’t here right now, and the jacket was a poor substitute. Isaac staggered against the wall of the cave, biting back a howl. He couldn’t call for Scott. The hunters might still be out there, and he wouldn’t put Scott in danger by giving away their location.
He forced himself to turn his back on the entrance and retreat to the back of the cave, where the gusts of wind didn’t steal what little warmth Scott’s coat offered. He winced as he settled on the cold ground, sending pain radiating from the hole in his side that had played reluctant host to a silver-tipped arrow. He wrapped his arms tight around his middle and turned his face into his shoulder to catch as much of Scott’s scent as he could.
If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in himself, he would have heard footsteps approaching, but instead, he merely startled when Scott spoke. “Glad I left my coat.”
“Weren’t you cold out there without it?” Isaac looked up to see Scott outlined against the grey mouth of the cave, holding an armful of wood, eyes glowing like embers in the low light.
Scott shrugged. “How’s the healing coming?”
“Fine.” Isaac folded his hand over the aching wound. A hunter’s arrow was the least of the things bothering him. He frowned as Scott dumped his collection of twigs and branches next to the remnants of their fire. “What are you doing?”
“You were shivering.” Scott dropped to his knees and pulled out of the baggie that held their dwindling supply of matches. “We need to get you warm.”
“No.” Isaac reached over and grabbed Scott’s wrist to stop him. “Those hunters are still out there. We can’t risk them seeing-“
“It’s not worth avoiding the hunters if you freeze to death.”
“I’m a werewolf, Scott. I won’t freeze to death.”
“Being a werewolf doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt.” Scott tugged his hand out of Isaac’s grip and started to arrange sticks in their makeshift fire pit.
Isaac edged closer. “Scott-“
“You were shivering. Your skin was cold.” Scott leaned against Isaac’s side, and paused with his hands full of twigs. “You were talking in your sleep, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying. I tried, but I couldn’t wake you.”
“It was a dream.” Isaac muttered to the ground.
Scott raised an eyebrow. “A nightmare?”
Isaac nodded without looking up.
“One of those.” It wasn’t really a question. Scott knew Isaac well enough to understand what could have hurt him this way.
“Yes.” Isaac looked up at last, fearing Scott’s pity.
Instead, Scott wore a look of fierce protectiveness, that Alpha glint that grew in his eyes whenever he needed to defend someone he loved.
“It’s okay, now that you’re here. It’s going, see.” Isaac guided Scott’s arms around him and pulled them tight together, avoiding the still-healing wound. “No more shivering.”
Scott held on for a long time, until his breathing and Isaac’s had synched up into a relaxed rhythm, until Isaac had soaked in enough heat that his skin felt as warm as Scott’s, until Isaac’s body had gotten the message that he was safe.
“Here,” Isaac said at last. “You should take your jacket back.”
“Keep it.” Scott patted the ground, keeping an arm around Isaac as they arranged themselves in an untidy, but relatively comfortable curl against the back wall of the cave. Pressing his face into Isaac’s hair, Scott whispered, “You sure you’re alright?”
“I will be.” Isaac laid his hand over Scott’s where it circled his waist. “If you keep me warm.”
Scott held on tighter. “Always.”
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Scott/Isaac
Rating: PG-13
Content Advisory: Mentions of past child abuse
Author's Note:Written for Remix 2014, inspired by Chilled by argentum_ls. Thanks to jaune_chat for beta-ing.
Summary: When Isaac is injured during an escape, Scott finds a way to deal with the ensuing nightmares.
When Isaac opened his eyes, it was dark. Not the pearly grey of the guest room in the McCall house, where light filtered in through gauzy curtains, but complete darkness: the total absence of any source of illumination. He knew this darkness. Isaac splayed out his arms, and his palms hit cold metal. The panicked breath he took in burned his throat, air cold enough to choke him.
The freezer.
His father had left it on, as he occasionally did when Isaac had earned a more severe punishment. Isaac reached up, slapping his hands against the frost-rimed lid as he tried to remember his transgression. “Dad!” he called. “I’m sorry!” The insulated walls of the freezer dampened his voice; he sounded weak, pathetic.
That was wrong. Isaac wasn’t supposed to feel weak anymore. Not ever again. He clenched his fists and called on the wolf within him. Nothing happened. He gulped in a lungful of freezing air and tried again. No shift. Nothing.
“No,” Isaac whispered. He couldn’t have lost his gift, Derek’s gift, the only thing that kept him from falling apart: claws, fur, and rage binding together the otherwise pathetic rag bundle of his life. “No!” He raked his fingers across the heavy lid, but his nails remained stubbornly blunt. He couldn’t escape. He was helpless, alone.
That was wrong, too. Not alone. Never alone. His pack would come for him. “Scott?” he called. Then again, a desperate howl, “Scott!”
Isaac jerked awake, breathing hard. Enough thin moonlight filtered in from the mouth of the cave to reveal its emptiness. Isaac bolted upright, then winced as the wound in his side throbbed in protest. The denim jacket draped loosely around his shoulders began to slip, but he caught it and held on. He pulled the lapel up to his face and breathed in the comforting scent of Scott. He must have left this here on purpose, so Isaac wouldn’t think he’d disappeared.
Isaac edged around the dead ashes of their fire to peer out of the mouth of the cave. Fat snowflakes drifted down to add to the pristine blanket of white covering the woods. Isaac thought he could make out a fading set of tracks leading away from the cave, but he couldn’t be certain.
He tugged Scott’s jacket more tightly around him, like a child’s security blanket. Scott hadn’t abandoned him. He wouldn’t. Even though Isaac was clumsy and slow, hadn’t managed to outpace the hunters who’d picked up their track again. Even though Scott would have a much better chance of making it to the rendezvous with Derek and the others without an injured wolf holding him back. Even though Isaac didn’t deserve to taken care of, or fussed over, or loved, because he was a lazy, worthless-No.
Isaac dug his fingers into the denim so hard his fingernails became claws and pierced the thick fabric. Those were his father’s words, his father’s poisonous influence infecting his thoughts the way it infected his dreams. Isaac didn’t have to listen. Didn’t have to let his father win.
Scott had said he’d keep Isaac safe, and Scott didn’t lie. Even when a comforting lie would have been easy-to hold Isaac in the midst of one of his nightmare flashbacks and say, “It’s not real.” But Scott wouldn’t say that, hadn’t ever told Isaac it was only a dream, or that there was nothing to be afraid of. He’d always said, “I’m here,” and “It’s over,” and “I’ve got you.”
But Scott wasn’t here right now, and the jacket was a poor substitute. Isaac staggered against the wall of the cave, biting back a howl. He couldn’t call for Scott. The hunters might still be out there, and he wouldn’t put Scott in danger by giving away their location.
He forced himself to turn his back on the entrance and retreat to the back of the cave, where the gusts of wind didn’t steal what little warmth Scott’s coat offered. He winced as he settled on the cold ground, sending pain radiating from the hole in his side that had played reluctant host to a silver-tipped arrow. He wrapped his arms tight around his middle and turned his face into his shoulder to catch as much of Scott’s scent as he could.
If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in himself, he would have heard footsteps approaching, but instead, he merely startled when Scott spoke. “Glad I left my coat.”
“Weren’t you cold out there without it?” Isaac looked up to see Scott outlined against the grey mouth of the cave, holding an armful of wood, eyes glowing like embers in the low light.
Scott shrugged. “How’s the healing coming?”
“Fine.” Isaac folded his hand over the aching wound. A hunter’s arrow was the least of the things bothering him. He frowned as Scott dumped his collection of twigs and branches next to the remnants of their fire. “What are you doing?”
“You were shivering.” Scott dropped to his knees and pulled out of the baggie that held their dwindling supply of matches. “We need to get you warm.”
“No.” Isaac reached over and grabbed Scott’s wrist to stop him. “Those hunters are still out there. We can’t risk them seeing-“
“It’s not worth avoiding the hunters if you freeze to death.”
“I’m a werewolf, Scott. I won’t freeze to death.”
“Being a werewolf doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt.” Scott tugged his hand out of Isaac’s grip and started to arrange sticks in their makeshift fire pit.
Isaac edged closer. “Scott-“
“You were shivering. Your skin was cold.” Scott leaned against Isaac’s side, and paused with his hands full of twigs. “You were talking in your sleep, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying. I tried, but I couldn’t wake you.”
“It was a dream.” Isaac muttered to the ground.
Scott raised an eyebrow. “A nightmare?”
Isaac nodded without looking up.
“One of those.” It wasn’t really a question. Scott knew Isaac well enough to understand what could have hurt him this way.
“Yes.” Isaac looked up at last, fearing Scott’s pity.
Instead, Scott wore a look of fierce protectiveness, that Alpha glint that grew in his eyes whenever he needed to defend someone he loved.
“It’s okay, now that you’re here. It’s going, see.” Isaac guided Scott’s arms around him and pulled them tight together, avoiding the still-healing wound. “No more shivering.”
Scott held on for a long time, until his breathing and Isaac’s had synched up into a relaxed rhythm, until Isaac had soaked in enough heat that his skin felt as warm as Scott’s, until Isaac’s body had gotten the message that he was safe.
“Here,” Isaac said at last. “You should take your jacket back.”
“Keep it.” Scott patted the ground, keeping an arm around Isaac as they arranged themselves in an untidy, but relatively comfortable curl against the back wall of the cave. Pressing his face into Isaac’s hair, Scott whispered, “You sure you’re alright?”
“I will be.” Isaac laid his hand over Scott’s where it circled his waist. “If you keep me warm.”
Scott held on tighter. “Always.”