Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

Warning: Contains descriptions of child abuse. Isaac's dad is an asshole. Spoilers for season 3B.

Melissa McCall reminded Isaac of home.

She reminded him of warmth and happiness, and cozy Sunday afternoons spent curled up in his mom's lap as she read him one of her many, many books. Melissa reminded him of the days when returning home after school had been something to look forward to, and not a dreaded obligation. Back when home had still been a place of warmth, bright smiles and safety.

When his mother died, Isaac had been six years old. He still remembers though, even now, how she would smile and run her fingers through his dark blonde curls- how she would always say that Isaac was her little ray of sunshine.

She would always make Camden and him hot chocolate before bed, and then they'd sit down together and she would read them a bedtime story as they drank. After that, it would be their dad's job to tuck them in. Camden eventually outgrew the stories, saying he was too old for Harry Potter but he still had a cup of hot cocoa every night before bed.

Life before Lauren Lahey's death had been a beautiful, blissful dream.

It was a dream filled with smiles and laughter and the only bruises to ever mar their skin were the ones caused by playing. There's a scar right above Isaac's left ear from when he had fallen and hit his head against the coffee table while running around with Camden pretending to be Jedi Knights. Another one, on his knee, is from the time he tried to climb a tree to gain a tactical advantage while playing hide and seek with some kids of his neighborhood.

It was his dad who taught him how to swim, being patient and supportive and smiling proudly when he finally got the hang of it.

It was Camden who bought him his first Marvel comic, igniting his love for superheroes.

It was his mom who would sit at his bedside when he was sick, running her fingers through his hair and reading him books in her sweet, soothing voice.

Isaac's mom had loved reading. She had loved the smell of old books, the yellowing pages filled with stories and adventures, she had even been a librarian down at the local library. It was impossible not to love her.

Sometimes, late at night, when he couldn't sleep or had had a bad dream, Isaac would get out of his bed and make his way over to his parents' room. His mom would blink at him sleepily and with a drowsy smile, she'd scoot over.

Lying there between his mom and dad, all warm and comfortable, Isaac would feel safe. Like nothing could ever hurt him.

Everything changed after their mother died.

It was cancer that took her from them, and after her death his dad was never the quite same. He didn't smile as much as he used to and he was drunk or hungover more often than he was not.

He would be absent most of the time, and he'd forget to cook or wake them up for school in the mornings. He'd yell a lot, and Camden would yell right back and Isaac would just sit in his bedroom, covering his ears and wishing they'd just stop.

Those days weren't that bad, really, at least not when compared to what was yet to come. But back then he had been six years old and up until that point in his life, Isaac had been living a dream. It was only natural then that he'd have to wake up and face reality at some point.

That didn't necessarily mean that he had to like it.

Reality meant that Camden was the one to wake him up in the mornings, he was the one to pack his lunch before school, and he was also the one to walk him to and from school every day. Reality meant that he could no longer sleep in his dad's bed because "for fuck's sake, you aren't a baby anymore, Isaac".

It wasn't long after his mom's death that Camden started to change too.

Camden was fourteen years old when Isaac caught him after school one day, sitting on some stairs smoking a cigarette. Which was a first, because as far as he had known, Camden didn't smoke- wasn't old enough to smoke.

And yet there his brother sat, watching something Isaac couldn't see, a cigarette poised between his index and middle finger. He blew out a puff of smoke, and it looked effortless.

(Which only proved that he'd been smoking for a while already because when Isaac tried it, several years later, he nearly coughed his lungs out as Erica and Boyd watched on in amusement)

He remembers making a scene, though he can't recall exactly what he said. Whatever it was, it must have somehow involved their mother and how she wouldn't have approved, because the moment the words had left his mouth, Camden shoved him back against the stone wall and furiously said-

"Mom's dead, Isaac. What she would or wouldn't want doesn't matter, so shut up."

He didn't talk to Camden for a solid week after that.

From then on, it didn't take long for the fighting to start. At school, out of school, at home... it seemed like all Camden could do was fight with everybody.

He constantly got in trouble with teachers, and he'd often return home with a black eye or a split lip and a story about how some kid had annoyed or wronged him. Him and their dad never got along anymore. Every time they spoke, they seemed to disagree over something or the other and Isaac's seventh birthday came and went without anybody remembering it.

It was during a fight like all the others that their dad hit Camden for the first time. The heavy silence that followed seemed to stretch on for ages and nobody moved or said a thing for several moments. It was like an invisible line had been crossed, and there was no turning back anymore.

Camden was out the door before anybody could stop him and later that night he called to tell them he'd be spending the night at a friend's.

The next time it happened, Isaac had been refusing to eat his dinner because he didn't like broccoli and his dad must have grown sick of his complaining, for he grabbed his arm and twisted it until Isaac shut up and ate his food. He deserved it, he thinks, but that didn't stop him from crying, or Camden from yelling "What the fuck, dad?!" as it happened.

He'd always look so guilty when he apologized and promised not to let it happen again that Isaac couldn't help but believe him. It wasn't his fault, it was theirs. They were rowdy kids and his dad had his responsibility as a parent. In the end, it wasn't like it was all that bad.

They still had their good and bad days, like any family.

On the good days their dad would cook dinner and the three of them would then do the dishes together. They'd watch a movie before bed and sometimes Isaac's dad would even take him out to buy the newest edition of Spiderman or The Avengers. Camden would snicker and call him a nerd, but he'd still ruffle his hair and beat up anyone that as much as looked at him the wrong way at school.

On the bad days- which started out as few and far between but steadily grew more plentiful later on- Camden and his dad would fight. It always started with a fight of some sort. They would fight and yell and shout and when he'd had enough of it their dad would have a go at Camden.

He'd leave his oldest son with a busted lip and a black eye and where two years ago their father had still apologized, all there was as he turned around to take a beer from the kitchen now, was a gruff "get out of my sight".

Camden never needed to be told twice.

Isaac was ten years old when his brother left for Afghanistan, and he was a few weeks shy of eleven when two uniformed men knocked on their door to tell his dad Camden was dead.

As the saying goes, it all went downhill from there.

The death of his first son hit his dad hard, and the one who paid the price for that was Isaac.

Before Camden's death, Isaac had never really known what it was like to be afraid of his own dad. Not truly. He had never been terrified to tears at the thought of going home before. He was his dad and even though he got rough sometimes- even though the words he said stung and the blows he dealt were painful, Isaac knew that the man still loved him. But that was before Camden died- before Coach Lahey got fired for showing up at work drunk one times too many. It was before black eyes and broken bones became a regular part of Isaac's life and daily schedule.

It was before it was just him against the world.

He wasn't the star of the swimming club, like Camden had been, and all of his grades were mediocre at best. He was too loud one moment, and then to quiet the next, and no matter how hard he tried not to, he seemed to only be capable of further disappointing his dad.

It was his own fault, he knew, for aggregating the man and leaving him no other choice but to beat some sense or manners into his youngest son. It was his own fault, and he had brought it upon himself.

Given enough time and beatings, Isaac started to believe it too.

School became his refuge and every afternoon as he rode his bike back home, Isaac's stomach tied itself into knots until he felt like he was might be sick.

He wished, sometimes, that it had been him that had died in Afghanistan and not Camden.

The first time Isaac's dad locked him in the freezer in the basement, he had been thirteen years old. He doesn't remember what it is that he did wrong now- he only knows that he screamed his throat raw begging to be let out. And when that didn't work, when his dad ignored his pleas and cries like he always did, Isaac cried himself to sleep.

It was only the first time, but Isaac knows it's something that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

Living with Melissa McCall on the other hand is nothing at all like that.

He's sixteen years old now, his father is dead, and Isaac... he's a werewolf. It's safe to say that he's changed- well, kind of.

Because the truth of the matter is that while Derek undoubtedly cares, he was never his parent. He didn't feel the need to check on him, or make sure he ate all his food, and if he sometimes left the train yard late at night... well, that was none of his business.

Isaac never got over his issues, he just managed to bury them for a little while longer.

Mrs. McCall is warm and nice, and the way she smiles at Isaac makes him feel like he's actually worth something. He doesn't remember the last time he was genuinely smiled at like that- but he likes it.

She is, for all intents and purposes, Isaac's guardian. He might not be her son, but she treats him the same way she does Scott. She wakes him up in the morning and makes sure he's had breakfast before leaving for school. She signs all of the forms and legal documents that need to be signed by an adult, and when he comes back from whatever the werewolves of Beacon Hills have been up to that night she washes his clothes, folds them and puts them neatly back into his closet.

She never hits him, or makes any indication that she wants to. She never shouts at him when he messes something up and if he ever breaks anything she sits down next to him and they clean it up together.

He's not entirely sure why she took him in that night, and sometimes he feels like he's still walking on eggshells- just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only that it never does.

When he brings home his first report card (the very same one he'd contemplated on 'accidentally misplacing' just so that he wouldn't have to show it to her), Melissa asks to see it. He feels his heart constricting with panic and he hates himself for the way his hands tremble. His mind flashes back to broken glass and rough hands, and oh god- it's hard to breathe.

"I- I know it's not the best-" He whispers as her eyes sweep over his grades. He doesn't dare raise his voice- kind of hopes she'll forget he's there if he just tries hard enough. He's failed chemistry, he knows. And his English isn't that good either. He nervously plays with the hem of his shirt, looking at anything but the woman that is Melissa McCall. "I promise I'll improve though- I'll do better next time- I promise-"

Melissa raises her eyes and before she can say anything, Isaac is already apologizing, his shoulders hunched and his arms held up instinctively to protect his face. He squeezes his eyes shut, a mantra of "I'm sorry"s and "I promise I'll do better next time"s leaving his mouth.

But Melissa doesn't hit him. She doesn't shout at him and call him stupid or a useless runt. Instead he feels her fingers on his shoulder. Her touch light and warm, and gently she tells him to calm down.

"Look at me," She says and Isaac doesn't want to. He doesn't want to see the resentment in her eyes, he doesn't want to see this woman look at him like his father used to. He doesn't think he could handle it. "Isaac, please, look at me."

It's his dad's voice, chilling and cold, that tells him to man up and do as he's told.

When he looks into her eyes, he doesn't see disgust or hatred or even anger. They're still the same warm eyes they've always been.

"I'm not angry, Isaac." She says as she gently pets his hair, as if he's a scared animal and she only wants to take care of him. It probably isn't too far away from the truth. He looks into her eyes and listens to her heart beat. It's steady and he knows that, somehow, Melissa isn't lying. "I would never hurt you."

Her touch is so warm and comforting that Isaac can't help but lean into it. He can feel guilty about it later, about being such a stupid needy brat, but right now he can't bring himself to move away from Melissa.

She holds him like that for almost an hour.

They don't talk about that incident again, but Melissa is the one that wakes him up when he has nightmares late at night. She's also the one that wipes away his tears and makes him hot chocolate milk at 3AM just because he can't get his dad out of his head.

He loves listening to her talk about what comes in and out of the hospital on some of the more crazy nights- the stories never fail to amaze him and he knows she likes the attention.

Incidentally, Melissa is also the first person Isaac allows to hug him since before Camden's death.

The first time Melissa hugs him is right after he's had a panic attack. She doesn't mind the snot or the tears that dampen her shirt, and just keeps rubbing soothing circles on his back. He falls asleep like that and when he wakes up, he finds himself in his bed, neatly tucked in.

(He suspects Melissa got Scott to carry him, because he doesn't think she's strong enough to lift a 16-year-old werewolf and carry him up the stairs.)

After that, she gives him lots of hugs. Right before he leaves for school, when he finally manages to get a B in chemistry, every time he brings her dinner at the hospital, or for no reason at all. He likes it.

And slowly, very slowly, he allows other people to hug him as well.

Scott, despite being an Alpha now, is and has always been a big puppy who loves hugging people whenever he gets the chance to do so. The first time Isaac doesn't flinch and back away from one of his hugs, his eyes light up in a way that makes the teenage werewolf think it might actually be worth it.

Allison and him snuggle when they're alone because they're kind of in a relationship, aren't they? It's kind of complicated, and he can tell it's not always him she's thinking of (she's not over Scott, no matter what she claims), but he still enjoys the attention.

When Stiles hugs him, it catches him completely off guard. Didn't the guy hate him? But then Stiles tells him to stop looking like a kicked puppy, and they're back to all of their usual snark and sass-offs.

Derek never actually hugs him, but he ruffles his hair like he's proud of him and that makes Isaac happy.

It's progress, he guesses, and when he doesn't flinch or stiffen when Danny suddenly wraps an arm around his shoulder in celebration for winning the lacrosse game, he counts it as a victory.

The first time he actually gives a hug also happens to be with Melissa.

He doesn't remember the last time he initiated a hug, he only knows it definitely happened long before Camden died, maybe even before his mom passed- but now Stiles and Scott are out, presumably doing something supernatural-related and/or (quite possibly) illegal, and Isaac finds Melissa sitting in the living room, crying.

He slowly walks over to her, leaning his back against the wall and letting himself slide down next to her. They just sit there for a moment, their shoulders touching, and, strangely, it reminds Isaac of all those times when Derek stayed up with him at night doing exactly this.

She talks, eventually. She talks about her marriage with Scott's dad and about the night she told him to get out of her house. It's him that hugs her this time around, and when she's done crying, Melissa wipes away her tears and thanks him.

He feels like he has finally done something right.

On the night of Allison's death, Scott is nowhere to be found. Melissa holds Isaac tightly and stays with him all night, rubbing soothing circles across his back as he cries his eyes out like a freaking baby. She doesn't tell him it's alright, because that would be a lie, instead she tells him to let it all out. And when he decides to leave for France with Chris, Melissa understands.

She helps him pack his bags and makes him promise he will call as soon as they're there. He gives her a hug, and she squeezes tightly and tells him to be careful. He promises he will.

She plants a kiss on his forehead before he goes, and Isaac feels like he could cry.

"I'll come back one day." He promises and that makes Melissa smile at him like he's really her son, and not just some really messed up kid she took in a couple of months ago.

He kind of likes it. Kind of really likes it.

After all, to Isaac Lahey, Melissa McCall is home.