:: Title: Fixing A Broken Smile

:: Rating: T

:: Fandom: Teen Wolf

:: Character/Pairing: Isaac/OC

:: Summary: No one noticed that her laugh was forced, only being used to cover up her cries of pain. Her smile never once reached her eyes, but no one noticed that either. No one noticed, but he did.

:: Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this one shot, besides the ocs mentioned or seen, everything else belongs to their rightful owners.

:: Warnings: Minor Abuse.

:: Author's Note: I've been working on this for a few days, and I actually entered this chapter into the writing contest, which thank you all for encouraging me to write! You guys are awesome! I hope the story gets even a little bit bit as popular as Laci did!

Chapter 1

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She was the small brunette girl who had friends. Two friends to be exact, and Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall were their names. They were both no bodies that became some bodies over night, or well, summer. She was just the girl who smiled and laughed with them, occasionally getting into some minor trouble with them both as well. Her father was a fellow officer, one that Stiles' dad worked well with when on call. No one knew what went on behind closed doors. No one really knew that the good officer had lost it when his wife had passed away. A thing that he and the sheriff both had in common and it was probably the reason that they worked so well as partners.

She was the girl who held a mask when she smiled. She came off as a happily shy girl who made up the third of the trio that consisted of her, Stiles, and Scott. She came to the lacrosse practices if only to just watch them play, only occasionally missing them every so often. No one would notice that she would come to school the next day with a new covered up bruise on her body. No one would notice every wince she made when someone touched her or when she turned too quickly. No one noticed that her laugh was forced, only being used to cover up her cries of pain. Her smile never once reached her eyes, but no one noticed that either.

No one noticed, but he did.

He noticed how she limped sometimes, how she made up excuses for the injuries that she couldn't cover up. He noticed when she wouldn't come in to school for a few days, but then she would back come in and play it off as the flu. He noticed how loud her screams were on the bad nights. He watched on from his bed room window as she would race out of her house, running as she fast as she could to no where, only to come back a few hours later to the hell that was her home. How did he know that? Because he lived across the street from her. His name was Isaac Lahey, and her name was Madeline Carson.

She was the girl that he always really saw, but she never saw him. She moved around like a shell who only knew how to fake a smile. She was just like him, only she was better at hiding it then he was. People believed her lies and they believed her smile. Even the two people who swore that they knew her the best couldn't see how bad off she really was. She would never blame them for not knowing, he knew that. He was thrown out from his thoughts as he worked on digging up the last of the grave that he had been working on when he heard the sound of the front gates squeaking open. He looked around confused, not seeing why anyone would, willingly, be here in the middle of a storm. He had to be here because it was better then being in his own home, but no else would be here.

Except for her.

He saw the little flash of color run by him, slipping slightly from the newly wet mud, but they kept going forward. He shut down the machine after a minute of hesitation and climbed down from the backhoe. He was careful not to slip as he got to the ground and headed over to the old shed. He grabbed one of the spare blankets and followed after the direction that the blur had gone off in. He saw the bright color of her nightgown from where he stood. She was curled up against the head stone that she always came to see. It was her mother's. He came up behind her, barely making a sound. She seemed to be spaced out as she rested her head against the cold marble of the head stone. Her eyes were staring off, not looking at anything at all. He could already see the bruise darkening under her eye and the blood falling from the corner of her mouth.

He crouched down as he held up the blanket in his arms. He dropped it down onto her shoulders, which seemed to snap her out of it. She screamed out as she scrambled to turn to see who was behind her. Her breathing was shallow and low as she stared up at him with frightened doe like eyes. He held up his hands in surrender, having not meant to spook her like he had. "S-s-sorry." he squeaked out as he took a step back from her. "It-it's just, the storm, you ha-have to be, you know, cold. I-I-I figured you'd, um, you'd want that." he stuttered out to her.

She seemed relax when she realized that he was safe, he wasn't going to hurt her. She didn't say anything as she nodded her head and looked away from him. He just watched on as she tugged the edges of the blanket more around her body. She let her head head fall back against the head stone as she took a deep breath before looking up at him again. "Th-tha-thank y-yo-you." she stuttered back up to him. He knew that he should have gone back to work, his dad would kill him if he knew that he had stopped working before he was finished, but he couldn't just leave her there. She was shivering from the cold rain, and she was barely wearing anything.

He had to take of her, he had to at least help her. This was Madeline, the girl with the broken smile. A smile that never got to really honestly shine as bright as it should have. Here she was, broken down and beaten. Now she was wet and freezing from the cold. He looked around to see that there was no one else crazy enough to be out during this storm. No one else that could help her and let him get back to his work so he wouldn't be the one in need of help. He looked back down at her when he realized that there was no one else. He sighed, knowing that it had to be him. "Yo-you shouldn't be out-out here. You're going to freeze. Ca-can you walk?" he asked her as he crouched down in front of her.

She lifted her head up to him again and studied him for a long minute. She had seen him before. He was the boy who lived across the street from her. She couldn't remember his name, but she had seen him before. He was almost always here when she would sneak in to talk to her mom's head stone. He never said anything to her, but she could see in his eyes when he saw her that he knew. He knew what had happened to her, who had happened to her. He never said a word to her, or to anyone else for that matter, though. She had always wondered why. That didn't seem to be the important matter at hand right now, though. Could she let him help her? Did she have a choice? She whispered out an 'okay', but it had come out softer then she would have liked it to.

He was taken back a little by her actually accepting his help. He shook his head when he realized that she was waiting for him to move. He slowly nodded his head in return and reached forward toward her. She flinched a little, but she didn't move away from him as he extended his hand toward her. She slowly took it, her fingers being much tinier compared to his longer ones. A shock ran through their bodies when their hands touched, but neither of them took noticed of it as his fingers slowly curled around her own. Her hand was cold, shaking from being so frightened and just plain cold. His grip tightened slightly as he started to pull her up to her feet. One of her legs collapsed on her from shaking so badly, but he had caught her. "It-it's okay, I-I-I got you." he said slowly down to her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her walk as she clung to him for support.

The two of them then stumbled all the way over to the old run down shed. He helped her inside and he seemed to be as relieved to be out of the rain as she did. "Oh-over here. I'll, um, I'll help you up." he said down to her before he led her over to an empty space on the old work bench. He lifted her up with ease and set her back down onto it as carefully as he possibly could be. She still winced in pain, but he knew that it was going to hurt no matter how gentle he was with her. "I-I, um, don't have an-any ice, but, um, I-I-I can clean th-that up for you." he told her nervously as he motioned to the blood that was staining her face. Who ever had hit her, her dad most likely, had to have hit her really hard.

She didn't say anything as he just handed her another spare blanket to make up for the, now wet one, that he had given her outside. She just wrapped it around herself and stared off at the floor as he moved around. He found a clean semi rag and dabbed it with water from the sink before going over to her. "Th-this, um, it might hurt a-a little." he told her, but she still didn't say anything to him. He hesitantly tilted her chin up so he could get better light on the girl's face where she was hurt. He couldn't help but notice that under the bruise under her eye, that she was really beautiful. Or she would have been if not for how broken she really was. Her brown doe eyes were lifeless as she stared off, they held no hope or happiness. He felt pity for this girl, but he was sure that she would feel the same if she knew about his own home life.

He honestly didn't understand how a man could hit a girl like her. He had some classes with her, not that she would realize it, but they did. She was always so sweet, quiet and shy, but over all she was sweet. She was tiny, like a life sized glass doll that stood at just barely over five feet. It made him sick on the inside knowing that a grown man, her own father, could hurt her like he was. She didn't deserve it, not kid did. He wished so many times before that he could stand up to his own dad, but he was just too afraid to. He wasn't strong enough, his dad would always have more power over him.

His attention was returned back to her when he noticed her wince slightly with a small hiss when he touched the rag to her lip, cleaning off the dry blood from her chin. "S-so-sorry." he hesitated when he saw that he had caused her more pain by touching her. She just shook her head and grabbed hold of his hand that was holding the rag. Her eyes stared up at him. "It-it's okay." she told him quietly, a shy small crack of a smile appearing on her lips for a flash of a second. "It's, um, it's just . . . it's cold." she lied to him. She didn't mean to, he knew that, it was just a jerk reaction to do. It was just so normal to lie about it, even when she knew that the person in front of her already knew.

He didn't tell her that he knew that she was lying, though. He just nodded his head and went back to dabbing the rag on her lip. He could see that it was going to swell a little, but nothing he was sure that she couldn't make an excuse for or hide away with make up. "Do, um, do-do you get, you know, cold, um, often?" he asked her as he finished up cleaning off the dry blood that had stained her soft creamy white skin. He felt almost stupid for asking her it like that, she didn't need to tell him. She didn't know him, and he knew that he wouldn't tell a total stranger about what was going on with him either.

"Um, yeah. Al-almost every night." she told him shyly as she looked away from him.

He looked up at her, surprised that she had actually told him that. He hadn't expected her to tell him that, even if she hadn't actually come out and say it. She looked suddenly guilty, as if she was thinking that she shouldn't have said it. He moved without realizing it and lifted up her chin, causing her to look at him again. "I get, um, I get cold a lot too." he whispered down to her, taking her by surprise. She just gave him a weak smile and nodded, thanking him for telling her that. Even if it wasn't straight out admitting it, they both had realized that they weren't as alone as they first thought. There was someone who else out there that understood, someone that was going through the same thing as they were, and they only lived across the street from each other.