"Stop making excuses for him," Stiles replied, the words weary, resigned to being ignored. The part of himself that could step away, be the only semi-objective person in their entire group, could understand. However shitty, Derek had endeavored to be a father figure in Isaac's life, and Isaac was desperate for that sort of attention, acceptance. But that ounce of objectivity didn't mean it didn't still annoy the hell out of Stiles.

"Can we talk about something else?" he blurted before Isaac had a chance to further dissemble, knowing even as he said it that there wasn't anything else. How could there be? Sighing, Stiles hefted his tray, overloaded, and carried it to a table by one of the windows.