welcome home || isaac lahey

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You rubbed your hand across your tired face again, like you had been doing for the past hour ever since you took five pregnancy tests and they all turned up positive. You had texted Lydia ten minutes ago, telling her to come over to your house as soon as possible, that it was a dire emergency. When your doorbell finally rang, you jumped from your couch, throwing the door open and not even giving your best friend a proper greeting.

"What's the emergency? Do I have to fight someone? Is it fictional character related because honestly, Y/N -"

"This!" You shrieked, interrupting Lydia, who's eyes widened as you threw a pregnancy test at her. "This the emergency! Oh my god, Lydia, I'm pregnant!"

There, you had finally said it aloud, but saying it out in the open like that made it feel even more real. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the test, two bars indicating that you were, in fact, having a baby.

"I feel like I'm going to pass out!" You declared, dropping back onto the couch and holding a hand to your forehead. Lydia sat beside you, placing her hand on top of yours.

"Have you told Isaac yet? Assuming the baby is his, of course," she added, quickly wondering if you had been with anyone else since Isaac left for France. You had been getting awfully close to Stiles lately...

"Of course it's his!" You snapped, regretting the words as soon as you spoke them. You sighed. "I'm sorry, Lyds. It's just...this is a little overwhelming. I mean he just left for France, and I'm here in California, and this is way too complicated for my liking. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you could tell him, for starters," Lydia suggested, still slightly sarcastic even at a time like this. But she was your best friend, and you knew she was going to be there for you.

"What am I supposed to say?" You asked, holding a hand up before she could give you a snarky reply. "Oh, wait, I know! Okay, I'll leave an message on his answering machine. It'll go like this, "'Hi, Isaac! I know we broke up because you weren't going to be here and you didn't want me to feel tied down, but do you remember that goodbye sex we had? Yeah, well, I guess the condom broke, and now I'm pregnant with your child! Enjoy Paris!'" You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Yes, that sounds perfect."

"He told Scott he probably wouldn't be gone long, so maybe he'll come back in a month or two, and you can tell him then. But if not, you have to tell him soon. Promise me you'll tell him soon," Lydia ordered, knowing that you would put this off as long as you possibly could.

"I'll tell him as soon as I'm ready," you promised her.

~~

Turns out you were never actually 'ready,' considering it was a year and a half later, and you were trying to settle down a screaming, six-month old baby boy that Isaac was still clueless about when boarded a plane to come back to Beacon Hills. He was clueless when he arrived, clueless when he knocked on Scott's door, and totally and completely clueless about why Scott had said, "Oh, you don't know about Y/N? Maybe you should go talk to her, then."

He went to your apartment, half expecting to find you in the middle of an intense make out session with your new and better-looking lover. Isaac had named him Brad, and Brad was an absolute ass in Isaac's mind. Naturally, he had the urge to protect you from this mystery guy, but if you were happy then there was nothing else to it. He had told you to be happy.

He knocked lightly on the door, hesitating a little. You had never been a fan of surprises, and Isaac's sudden arrival hadn't exactly been planned out. But when you called out in a strained voice, "It's open!" he knew there was no going back. He braced himself for the inevitable heartbreak. He opened the door, and was greeted by the sight of you in your sweatpants, your hair up and your glasses on, looking tired but beautiful as always.

And you were holding a crying baby.

You looked up, nearly dropping your son when you saw who was standing at your door, a look of shock that mirrored your own on his ever-handsome face. The baby seemed to quiet down at his mere presence, which worried you even more.

"Isaac," you breathed, subconsciously tightening your grip on your son as the color drained from your ex-boyfriend's face. He mouthed wordlessly, trying to say something, but no words came out as he started at you and your son, his son.

He swallowed, summoning the right words to form a coherent sentence. "Is - is the baby - is th-that," he took a deep breath. "Is that my child?"

You nodded, not really looking him in the eye. "Your son? Yes." Isaac took a step toward you, staring wide-eyed at the bundle in your arms. "I should've told you, I was supposed to, but I just...I don't know what happened. I thought you would come back, before he was born. But, then you weren't, and I kept putting off."

Isaac shook his head, mustering the courage to stand next to you, to get a better look at his son. "Not your fault," he mumbled, the urge to reach out for him greater as he watched his son's small face. "He's so tiny," Isaac whispered, his hand touching the blanket. "What's his name?"

"I hope you don't mind, I named him Camden, after your brother," you told Isaac, who was staring at you with absolute awe. "I figured you would have wanted that."

"Wow, little Camden, thank you," he said softly, like he couldn't believe you had done that for him. You would still do anything for him, even after a year, and you weren't afraid to admit it. He bit his lip nervously, glancing at you shyly. "Do you - do you think I could hold him?"

"Of course you can," you said, smiling softly as you handed him his son. Isaac held him tentatively, as if the baby would break if he held him. You could tell how nervous he was, but how excited he was, too, as he beamed down at the little boy who had inherited Isaac's bright blue eyes.

"Hi, little Camden," he cooed, bouncing the baby gently in his arms. "I'm Isaac, I'm your dad. And I love you already, so much." Your stomach felt warm and fuzzy as you stared at them, at how adoring Isaac was already. You could see it in his eyes, how much he cared for Camden within twenty minutes of meeting him. "And I'm never leaving you or mommy ever again," he whispered, stroking Camden's cheek with the tip of his finger. Your heart just about exploded out of your chest, and while you were certain Isaac was able to hear it, you weren't sure he was even listening.

You beamed, touching the baby's tiny fists with your thumb, tracing over his little hand. Isaac placed his hand over yours, a small smile on his face. "I missed you," he said, shifting so that he was even closer to you than he had been before.

"Welcome home," you murmured, not letting go of his hand.

"Yeah," he sighed contentedly, "I'm home."

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