I keep to myself in the crush of the crowd.

[sarcastical]

Stiles Stilinski isn't hiding. That's not what this is about.

…okay, so maybe that's not true in the strictest sense of the word. Purposely coming to a place almost entirely bereft of reminders of home for the principle (but not only!) purpose of actually being able to ignore home could be construed as hiding. But after the year he's had, is there anyone out there who could really blame him?

Plus, the food is free. If anybody asks, that's the story he's going with. It's a more shallow excuse but still sounds better than, "Oh, I'm just avoiding the massively draining drama caused by my best friend's supernatural affliction."

Of course, this place isn't entirely free from reminders of home because Isaac is here, and forced denial aside, Stiles really isn't sure how he feels about that. How should he feel about a guy who may or may not be both moving in on Stiles' best friend status and macking on said best friend's ex, a guy who can't seem to find any middle ground between being a total dick and being the human incarnation of a kicked puppy? They've been through a lot together, him and Isaac, yet Stiles still isn't sure how much he really wants to know the guy. He's pretty sure that way lies madness.

Yet here they are, sharing one more thing in common, because apparently Isaac is even more invested in denial than Stiles, camping out in some alternate universe resort rather than deal with the mess at home. Stiles won't let himself acknowledge that he's simultaneously relieved and offended by this fact, nor that anytime he's here, he's constantly both looking for and avoiding the guy, like that's even possible.

Time doesn't move the same here as it does back home, and the moon is a fat, white thumbnail in the night sky. Stiles isn't one for getting back to nature, but he's sitting on a bench in the English garden anyway, listening to the quiet burble of fountains and staring up at that moon, rendering the point of being there completely moot by thinking of nothing but home and all it implies.

Comments

[sarcastical]

They'd reached the buffet line by this time, and Stiles paused, both hands braced against the edges of his empty tray, and turned a pointedly confused look Isaac's way.

"Everything?" he asked, and then motioned with one hand as he continued. "Apart from being Derek's lapdog and making life hell for us for a few months? Everything beyond that?"

[freezedout]

Okay, so that's good. Isaac kind of sometimes feels like Stiles knows everything, which might be because he's nosy as hell into business that doesn't belong to him, but apparently he's not well-'versed in the weird situation he's got going on with what he's feeling, lately. "It's not like he knew he was my alpha," Isaac says, trying to gently ease them away from the real reason. "Maybe he's not ready for a beta."

[sarcastical]

More and more these days, Stiles found it difficult to reconcile the Isaac he used to know, first turned and a total dick, to the Isaac he now knew, abused and weirdly vulnerable. There were moments, purely selfish and massively misguided, when he wished he didn't know about Isaac's dad and that Isaac had kept the douchey facade. That, at least, Stiles knew how to deal with. This guy? The uncertain, emotionally fragile one? Totally beyond his purview.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't ready to be a werewolf in the first place, dude," Stiles replied, making a point to keep his focus on piling his plate with food rather than Isaac's presumably sad bastard face. "And he trusts you. He'll deal because he's got no choice, and better Scott than Derek."

[freezedout]

"He's not so bad, you know," Isaac grudgingly admits, because given that he's lost a lot of people in his life and a lot more in the last year, it takes a lot to admit that. "Derek. I mean, yeah, he's no Scott McCall, but who is? I mean, I'm pretty sure even before he became a werewolf, he was a puppy trying to please people." Scott's always struck him as the kind of guy who does good because he doesn't think there's any other option.

Isaac stares at the food on Stiles' plate and his stomach gives a replying growl, making him quick to follow. He leans over to grab a stick of celery, chomping it as he loads up. "Look, the Scott thing is...complicated," he says, shrugging. "I'm just glad to not be an omega right now, especially with all the crap we've got coming."

[sarcastical]

"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.

[freezedout]

Isaac raises a brow, but doesn't say anything else about the excuses he might be making for Derek. The truth is that even though Derek had done something terrible to him and made him feel actually scared, he'd gone back to him. He kept going back to him and he knows that's screwed up, but it's his life. "What, do you want to talk about crushes? School? The unmentionably evil things headed for Beacon Hills?"

[sarcastical]

"You know, I can pretty firmly say that I have no interest in hearing about your love life," Stiles said with a bitter little smirk and a wave of his lasagna-laden fork. Somehow, Isaac's irritating attractiveness had gone mostly unnoticed by the female population prior to his becoming a werewolf, but now, with that cocky little swagger he liked to throw into his walk, Stiles imagined him as being perpetually laid. The kind of guy who has panties in the back seat of his car and can't remember who they belong to.

It probably wasn't fair, but neither was Isaac's face.

[freezedout]

"Good, because I'm not selling the rights to publish it for everyone to see," Isaac deadpans, taking his own food-laden plate and setting it in front of him. There's tons of food there, a lot more than he'd usually get, but the truth is that his living situation is tense thanks to his love life thing and he tries to avoid it as much as he can. "I mean, unless the group is issuing out one-page declarations," he says evenly, raising a pointed eyebrow at Stiles as if to implicate him in this.