Scisaac One Shots!

That Night.

TW: Violence

"If you love him, go get him,"
His mother's words rang in Scott's ears as he biked vigorously to Isaac's house. There was no way in hell he would let Isaac slip through his fingers, not after all they've going through. When he reach his front yard, he practically threw his bike onto the grass, dashing to the house. Soon after he rang the doorbell, Scott saw Isaac's face through the small opening of the door.
"Now is not really a good time," Isaac said, his voice quieter than usually.
"It can't wait." Scott begged. "Please?"
Hesitantly, Isaac peered over his shoulder before sitting on next to him on the top stoop. As Scott opened his mouth to start the monologue he had prepared, he noticed something. Isaac was desperately shielding the left side of his face. Scott cupped Isaac's cheek.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
Isaac pulled away from him. "Nothing, I'm fine."
Scott narrowed his eyes, and tried to get a better look at what Isaac was trying to hide.
"I said I'm fine!" Isaac protested, his hand still glued to his face.
Scott grabbed his chin and pinned his hand to the cement. There was Isaac's premature black eye, pink and puffy. Scott inspected it throughly as Isaac tried to push him away, but his grasp was too strong. Scott gave him a look of horrendous concern, but Isaac couldn't meet his boyfriend's eyes.
Scott intertwined Isaac's fingers with his own. "Isaac.." he started, but he was never able to finish his sentence.
"I know what you're thinking," Isaac said. "And yes, that's exactly what happened." Once again, he turned around, making sure his father wasn't behind them. "He's sleeping now, he should be out for a few hours."
Scott couldn't help but ooze pity.

"Please don't look at me like that," Isaac said, finally meeting Scott's eyes. His voice sounded raw and barren.
"Like what?" Scott asked.
"Like I'm broken. I'm okay, really. It doesn't even hurt that much."
Scott gingerly ran his thumb over the injury that was quickly starting to bruise. He felt Isaac flinch beneath his touch, but he still kept a straight face.
"You're not broken, Isaac." Scott said gently. "Not to me."
And with that, he felt Isaac's lips on his own.  They were ghostly cold, colder than the last time he had felt them. Isaac's poor circulation always worried Scott, sometimes he would wrap seven blankets around the blonde and he still wouldn't overheat. Isaac pulled him closer, running his fingers through Scott's hair.  Whenever he was kissing Isaac, Scott felt relived. Like that moment after a long day, where you just fall back on your bed and take a nap. Yeah, that's what Isaac felt like. Like a safety net after a long fall. Scott felt Isaac smile against him, which in turn made him smile as well. Their breaths crystallized against the night air, and Isaac's once cold nose began to thaw.

But in that moment of bliss, they heard the door creak open. Isaac tensed immediately, pulling away. He kept his eyes glued on Scott, fearfully avoiding who they both knew was at the door.
"Say goodbye to your friend, Isaac." His father said sternly. The empty whiskey bottle hung loosely at his side, scaring the both of them.
Isaac swallowed hard. "Yes sir." Giving Scott one last pleading look, Isaac stood up and went back into his house.

***

Not under any circumstances did Scott trust Isaac's father. Uneasiness clogged Scott's throat as the front door to the Lahey's  slammed. Quietly, Scott hugged the side of the house with his back, and camped out underneath the windowsill.

"Sit down, son." He heard Mr. Lahey say as the two entered the living room, his voice surprisingly warm. Scott heard the sickly sound of alcohol being poured into a glass. He considered breaking in and stopping the whole scenario right there, but he knew he had to wait.
"So," his father said. "Are you gay?"
The question even caught Scott off guard.
"Um, I-I.." Isaac started, the terror in his voice was practically palpable.
"Well? Spit it out."
"I- I'm not sure," he choked out.
"Not sure?" His father chuckled softly. "Then why do I step outside of a breath of fresh air, only to find you kissing the McCall boy?"
Scott heard the table fall over, and glass shattering. He flinched.
"I- I'm s-s-sorry!" Isaac said immediately. "It won't happen again, I promise."
Scott knew Isaac was just saying that to please his father, but it still stung.
"Good, good," his father said, his voice beginning to soothe. "Because I wouldn't want my son to be a fag, would I?"

More glass.
Scott was paralyzed with fear.

A single tear rolled down Scott's cheek as he heard Isaac cry out in anguish. He heard a cacophony of thuds and broken glass, as well as Isaac begging him to stop. Why wasn't Scott able to move?

This went on for another 25 minutes. In all of those 25 minutes, Scott couldn't bring himself to scoot an inch. His ears scorned him with the sound of Isaac whining as his father threw things. With every crash, scream, and cry, Scott flinched, his tears multiplying by the second.

At first, he almost didn't even realize it was silent. He peered over the windowsill, fearing the worst. But as fate would have it, Mr. Lahey was passed out on the couch, Isaac no where to be seen.

Scott dashed to the other side of the house, and the view from outside his window proved that Isaac's room was completely dark. Panicking, Scott jimmied the window open, quietly stepping inside. Isaac's limp figure lay on his bed. His half-dead appearance frightened him.

Scott immediately ran over to his boyfriend,
a sickening reality greeted him. Isaac's body was littered with bruises and cuts. He was in so much pain, he couldn't move. Scott's eyes welled with regret.
"It's okay. It's okay," Isaac whispered, rasping. He tried to form a small smile, but it only burdening him more, and he winced. Scott's mind was racing. He could've stopped this, it was all his fault. Hot tears rolled past his cheeks.
"It's going to be okay," Scott assured, running his fingers through Isaac's hair, which was alarmingly filled with glass shards. But Scott wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

Searching frantically in Isaac's closet, he pulled out the first blanket he could find and laid it on top of him. Scott kissed Isaac's forehead, begging him to say conscious a while longer. He felt Isaac weakly nod, and that was Scott's cue to start packing a bag.

He shoved every shirt, short, and sweatshirt he could fit into Isaac's suitcase.
"Scott."
He then produced to toss it out the window.
"Scott."
"What?" He demanded, whipping around to face the other boy.
Isaac as trying to sit up, but not without a great effort. He held his ribs, groaning. The sight of him made Scott's expression soften. He sat next to Isaac, supporting him upwards. Scott pushed the his stubborn bangs out of his eyes.
"I don't think I can go with you," he said softly.
"There's not way in hell I'm leaving you."
"Scott-"
"No." He said firmly.
Isaac tried to smile again, but it turned into a grimace. Usually, Scott's world was lit on fire when Isaac smiled, but this wasn't the case for tonight.

Gingerly, Scott helped Isaac to his feet. He could practically feel Isaac trying not to scream. With very strategic positioning, Scott was able to ease him out the window with as painlessly as possible.

Once Isaac's suitcase was strapped to his bike, Scott helped the other boy onto the back of the seat and gave him the helmet.
"Just hold on, okay? We'll be home in a second."
"Hey Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure he's not going to find me?"
Scott was silent for a moment.

"I'm positive."

One of my more serious ones, although I hope you enjoyed.