A/N trigger warnings for mentions of abuse, depression, that sort of thing with Isaac...and canon character deaths, despite a non-canon story.

When social services finally barges in and takes Isaac away from his father, granting custody to his aunt, Isaac gets the first good night's sleep he's had since his mother died. He's curled up on the guest bed, well, now his bed, in the house of someone who will actually care for him the way that his mother had before she died, and the way that his father never would have.

It's confusing for Isaac, because he knows he never would have said anything to anyone about his father, his home life, and when he finds out that it was the boy across the street, Jackson Whittemore, who's never been anything but ignorant of Isaac, who made the call that probably saved his life, he's even more confused.

He was sure that he would fall right into the foster system, that no one would want him, and that he would rotate out at 18 with no one in his life to help him, but he was wrong. His aunt Clara, his mother's sister, jumps right in, rushing to the station to get him the very same night. He hasn't seen her in years, but she's right there, claiming him as family. He was wary, of course, because he doesn't know her, not really, but he has pleasant memories of being a little boy sitting in her lap while she sang to him, smiled down at him, and somewhere, deep down, he knows that he hasn't seen her because his father didn't want him to, not because his aunt was avoiding them.

She looks like his mother, not identical, but similar, and there's something so incredibly comforting about that. Still, he waits for the other shoe to drop, for Clara to call him worthless, spineless, weak for not getting himself out of the bad situation, but she just calls him Isaac, and darling, and tells him that it's okay, that he's safe now. She cooks him meals, she drives him to school, offers to help him with his homework, then calls his teacher to complain when she herself can't solve the math problems he's been given, and she's an accountant.

Most importantly of all, though, she knows that Isaac's not okay, and that cookies and hot tea won't fix that. She knows that all of the love and affection in the world won't undo all of the damage that has been done to his psyche by his father, by the boys at school who tease him, by the years of loneliness he's suffered because he doesn't know how to fit in. She can't turn him around her own, can't make him see that he's not the worthless, stupid, hopeless young man that his father spent so much time and energy trying to convince him that he is.

She gets him therapy, and not just that, she lets him shop around. When the first therapist makes him feel uncomfortable, she pulls the plug, and finds him a second. When she asks how the first meeting went, and Isaac admits sheepishly that he didn't like the guy, she doesn't even ask why, she just promises to find him someone else.

It's the 3rd therapist that he likes, the one who doesn't make him talk right away, the one who lets him sit there for the first 20 minutes of the appointment fiddling with a Rubik's cube, only breaking the silence to offer Isaac a glass of water. Isaac accepts the glass of water, takes a sip, and blurts out "social services took me away from my father."

"Did you want to be taken away from him?"

"Yes."

The man looks at him and nods. "And where are you living now?"

"With my aunt," Isaac replies.

"Are you safe there?"

Isaac stops. He turns the water glass in his hands three times, and then looks up at the man – Dr. Jacobsen, and nods once.

"Good." Dr. Jacobsen smiles. "That's all I needed to know."

He lets Isaac spend the rest of the appointment talking quietly about things like Lacrosse and John Grisham novels, because he knows that the best way to help Isaac isn't to make him explain all of his feelings and emotions right away. He knows that the best way to help Isaac is to make sure he's comfortable, and that for all of the wariness the teenager has, he isn't going to warm up easily.

When the appointment is over, his aunt stands, smiling at him encouragingly.

"Well?" she asks.

"I made two appointments for next week – he said twice a week would be best, is…is that okay?" he asks.

"Of course, dear." She smiles, nodding, because money isn't an obstacle, and even if it was, she'd find her way around it if it meant helping Isaac.

"Okay." Isaac nods. "Tuesdays and Fridays at 5:00. So I can still go to practice."

"That's wonderful."

"Thank you," he mutters softly as they leave the office.

Isaac isn't sure that he knows what "better" will feel like when he finds it, but for the first time since his mother died, he feels like he's on a path that might eventually lead him to that.

A/N Alright, I know that the first chapter is short, but I liked it as an intro, I promise the next one will be longer! Though for those of you new to my writing, I tend to go for short and frequent updates, rather than long, and far apart. I hope you enjoyed this beginning!