broken betas// isaac lahey teen wolf

two

isaac's leg bounced anxiously in his seat, hands shakily moving to bring food to his mouth, painfully aware of his father watching him from across the kitchen table.

"um," he stuttered. "so far it's an A in french, and a B- in econ."

"oh," his father said, continuing to cut his food. "what about chemistry?"

the boy looked down at his fingers that were fiddling with each other, picking at his already uncomfortably short nails— a nervous habit he had developed over time.

"i'm not sure," he mumbled. "midterms are in a few days, so it could go up."

"well," his father said, sensing his son's discomfort. "what's it at now?"

"the grade?"

isaac's father rolled his eyes at the boy's ignorance. "uh, yeah."

"uh," isaac's face went blank as he tried to come up with some sort of lie. "i'm not sure."

"but you just said it could go up?"

"i just, uh, meant generally."

the man's face turned sour. "you wouldn't be lying to me, would you, isaac?"

isaac raised his head to face his father, panic glistening in his eyes. "no."

"then tell me your grade."

"i just," he stumbled. "i just told you i don't know."

"you wanna take this little conversation downstairs?"

the boy froze at the words, shaking his head quickly.

"no?" his father looked at him in mock playfulness. "then tell me the grade, son."

"dad, the semester's only half over," isaac tried to dig himself out of his already deep grave.

"isaac."

"there's plenty of time-"

"isaac."

tears glossed over his eyes as he mumbled, "it's-it's a D."

his father paused momentarily at the information before shrugging. "alright. it's a D," he said nonchalantly. "i'm not angry," he stated. "but you know i'm gonna have to find a way to punish you though. i have my responsibility as a parent. so we'll start with something simple, like, uh," he gestured towards the sink, "tell you what, you do the dishes and clean up the kitchen, okay?"

isaac looked at his father in disbelief before stuttering out a soft yeah.

"good," the older man said, picking up a mug. "because i'd really like to see this place spotless," and with that he casually flung the cup to the side, crashing against the tile. "know what i'm saying? i mean this entire kitchen," he screamed, slamming his hands onto the table sending glasses shattering onto the floor, isaac curled into a ball against the wall. "absolutely," the man picked up a glass pitcher, hurling it at his son's head, "spotless."

the shaking boy removed his head from his hands, pulling a piece of glass from his face and staring in astonishment as his father said, "well that was your fault."

"you could have blinded me."

"shut up!" he snarked. "it's a scratch! it's hardly even-" his words halted as he watched isaac's wound quickly heal over.

the boy reached up with his fingertips to feel the cut completely gone, barely giving his father a moment to question it before bolting out the door.

"isaac!"

he paid his father no mind, grabbing his bike and pedaling away, listening intently as his father's old ford sedan started up. not giving the man even a minute to catch up with him, isaac pedaled until his legs felt like they would give out, eventually dumping the bike in a seemingly abandoned alley and hiding in the shadows.