Rebel was kind of a weird name, and not what I’d ever expected Scott to come up with, but I guess he was a cute kid. He had Scott’s hair, inky black and falling in his eyes, which were an intense gold color that seemed oddly familiar, as if I’d seen him before now. He was dressed in a long sleeved black undershirt with a shorter sleeved t-shirt on top that had a faded Captain America shield on the front.

He was wearing olive green cargo jeans with extra pockets on the thighs and was pulling dirty sketchers onto his feet as he sat on the steps of the porch with Shaede standing in front of him with his hands stuffed in his pockets, waiting patiently for the kid to tie his shoes on his own. There was a square Band-Aid taped to one of Rebel’s cheeks, probably covering the aftermath of a prank or falling out of a tree, if he was anything like Scott.

“Done!” he threw his hands above his head and stretched his legs out like he was showing Shaede how he’d tied his shoes all by himself, and the weird lone hummed as he reached out and ruffled Rebel’s already messy hair.

“Good job.”

“What did he do?” I turned to watch Scott step onto the porch, closing the screen with one hand as he ran his fingers through his black hair, which he’d pulled out of the little ponytail and let hang. He looked even more enticing with his hair like that, maybe because I knew how perfectly soft it was.

Damn I wanted to run my hands through it, twist my fingers in it to hold him down so he forgot all about that Priscilla Paige…

“Shoelaces! All on my own!” Rebel exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and pointing at his shoes, “See? Are you proud? Did I do good?”

“Of course I’m proud!” Scott assured, kneeling in front of Rebel and kissing his little cheek.

Rebel turned to grin over at Shaede, and Scott frowned heavily, rubbing his thumb over the bandage on his cheek before looking over his shoulder at Shaede, who gave a single nod before turning and starting to walk towards the cars parked at the entrance.

Scott seemed to force the smile onto his face when Rebel turned back to him, “Alright, baby. Shaede just went to get the truck so we can unpack all our things, but this is boring adult stuff. Why don’t you go look around and explore? Make some friends from Kerry Clan?”

The big smile fell fast from Rebel’s lips, and he looked over his shoulder around the area, watching as people came out of their homes, children running around excitedly. I was expecting him to jump on the opportunity and run out to make friends, but he just turned back to Scott and shook his little head.

“Nuh-uh. I wanna help daddy unpack.”

Pain appeared in Scott’s eyes, and he took Rebel’s chin with his hand, pushing it up so their eyes could meet, “You’re allowed to go play, sweetie.”

“I can play with uncle Shaede later,” he decided, “I wanna stay with daddy. Can I? Please?”

He almost looked scared, and Scott pulled him into a hug, stroking his fingers through Rebel’s black hair, “Of course, baby, I’d love the help. Maybe you can go play tomorrow?”

Rebel didn’t respond as he pulled away from the hug and sat himself on the first step, waiting patiently there as Scott stood up and rubbed at his eyes. I stepped closer and leaned towards him to whisper so Rebel didn’t hear me.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine,” Scott assured, dropping his hand, “I mentioned he was shy, and this is a new area entirely. He’s always been clingy and attached to me, and I really don’t mind, I just wish he’d make friends.”

“Well, and I know I probably have no right to say this, but he’s not going to put himself out there and make friends if you enable him and let him cling to you.”

I tensed up when Scott turned to glare at me, the expression was absolutely petrifying, like when I made my mother mad, or upset one of the other mom’s in the pack, “I’m not enabling him, Malcolm, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s scared of making friends. He’s not incapable, he’s not unlikable, he’s just scared.”

“Why would he be scared?” I asked, but Scott turned away from my and folded his arms, staying silent, “Scott I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”

“I don’t need your help,” Scott bristled, “I’ve done just fine raising him on my own for the past eight years, you coming into the picture won’t change anything.”

I let his words go through my mind a few more times before I realized it, my eyes growing wide, “You’ve been raising him for eight years?” I asked, and he tensed up even more, “You and Priscilla really got busy soon after you left, huh?”

The words tasted bitter to me, and it made me feel even worse when he spun on his heel to seethe at me, teeth grinding, “Fuck you, Malcolm,” my jaw slacked and my eyes widened in shock, but he just turned away from me again, “Don’t you have work to do, alpha?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the sputtering sound of a truck pulling up stopped me, and I turned to see a beaten-up peeling sky blue Chevy stop in front of the house before Shaede stepped out. Scott stepped forward to join him on the ground, and I followed, but before I could reach out to stop him he spun to glare at me again.

“Didn’t I say to leave?”

“Why are you suddenly so pissed off at me?! What did I do?!”

“Sorry,” Scott bit, “I get a little testy where my son is involved.”

That was all he said before turning and stepping off the porch with Rebel scrambling after. I watched the three of them for a while before grumbling and walking down the three steps, “Are you at least coming to dinner, tonight?” I asked, and Scott nodded without looking at me.

I couldn’t concentrate on my work for the entire day, my mind kept going back to the fact Scott was mad at me, and I still had no damn idea what exactly I did! All I said was Scott might be enabling Rebel by letting him cling, in my mind I figured Scott should just push the kid to make some friends, in the end Rebel would thank him, but Scott got so defensive! Maybe because I questioned his parenting? I remember my mother always became infuriated if one of the other moms from the pack asked what she was doing raising Scott and I the way she did.

Most of the day I was sitting with my chair rolled up to the window, my arms folded against the window frame and my chin sitting on them so I could stare down at the ugly blue truck and watch Scott, Shaede, and Rebel carry boxes into the house. Members of the Paige Clan would show up sometimes, and Scott would spend a few minutes talking to them, at one point a man with honey blond hair dressed in loose clothing showed up, and Scott was talking to him for maybe twenty minutes before he walked off and Scott returned to helping Shaede and Rebel carry in boxes.

It was kind of entertaining to watch, and slightly intimidating, how Scott easily carried four stacked boxes into the house while without so much as a grimace. He looked slender and small, but he was also an alpha, and he was so much stronger than he appeared.

Cliff didn’t mind when he came in later that night to tell me Scott was there for dinner and saw all my work was still undone. He just pinched the bridge of his nose as I shrugged awkwardly and let me leave with strict instructions to come back after dinner was over.

The square table in the dining room attached to the kitchen was already made up with placemats, glasses, and even flowers in a vase. Cecilia was in the kitchen fluttering around animatedly, and Scott was there as well, holding two plates of what appeared to be mashed potatoes and green beans.

Cecilia was extatic to have him there, that much was obvious, and I couldn’t help smiling at their display, until Scott turned his head, spotted me, and narrowed his eyes before turning and walking over to the dining table. He was still mad at me, then. That was just my luck.

“Hey sweetie,” Cecilia called to me as she stepped over to the oven, “Finish all your work.”

“Ah, almost. Cliff decided food was important and said I could finish after dinner.”

“Well he’s right, you need to eat,” she clicked her tongue at me, pulling out a pan of hot barbeque chicken just as my father stepped into the kitchen, breathing deeply and humming.

“You made my favorite, angel.”

“This is everyone’s favorite,” Cecilia chuckled as Wade walked up behind her and leaned over to watch her move the chicken breasts onto four plates before drizzling them with extra barbeque sauce, “Would you mind taking two to the table?”

“Of course, but I can’t guarantee I’ll make it there.”

“I’ll take the other two,” I offered, and my mother beamed at me, letting me take the last two plates before setting the dirty dishes into the sink and following after me.

I tried to set a plate down for Scott, but he just ignored me and stepped deliberately to a different chair where Wade had set a plate. I was still determined, though, and sat down in the chair next to him. Cecilia sat in the chair across from me and Wade to my right, which basically had Scott stuck in the seat beside me.

He refused to look at me or even regard me, though, giving me the silent treatment as the four of us started in on our meal. It did feel like we were a family again, besides the fact Scott was ignoring me completely and my parents had noticed, watching the two of us uncomfortably before Wade cleared his throat.

“Scott, where’s your mini me? I would’ve expected him here, being family and all.”

Scott smiled awkwardly and pulled the fork from his lips, “Sorry, he had a pretty big day so I left him with Shaede. I decided a dinner like this might be a bit too exciting for him and asked Shaede to babysit. I was a little worried he would be uncomfortable,” his green eyes narrowed and snapped to me, “Unless you think I was wrong and that I’m just enabling him.”

I threw my hands up, “I’m sorry, already! I didn’t think it would piss you off this much! I was just trying to help.”

“Wait a minute,” Cecilia held a hand up to shut me up, “What’s going on? You two just reunited and you’re already fighting?”

Scott just lifted a glass to his lips and glared down as I folded my arms and slumped back in my chair, “It’s his fault for overreacting.”

I should’ve expected him to slam the glass down onto the table, “My fault?!”

“Just like old times,” Wade hummed with a small glass of scotch in his hands, and Cecilia covered her face with a heavy sigh.

“Yes, your fault!” I leaned forward, placing my hands onto the table, “I was trying to help, Scott! And keep in mind I did say I understood I had no right to bring it up or give my opinions, but if the kid is shy and has trouble making friends, you should help him!”

“I’m not shoving my son out of his comfort zone just because you think all alphas should be fucking emotionless jackasses like you!”

Wade smiled at his wife, “Dinner’s going great.”

“I didn’t mean that, Scott, I just meant maybe pushing him a little out of his comfort zone would help him, make him bolder and more willing to socialize! You can’t just coddle him for the rest of his life!”

“He’s eight!”

“He’s going to be a pathetic excuse for an alpha if he doesn’t learn to man up! You’re not helping him by letting him cling to you just because he’s shy! That’s enabling! What’ll happen to him when you’re gone, huh?!”

“He is eight fucking years old, Malcolm!”

“That doesn’t change my question!”

“Hold on, both of you!” Cecilia yelled, and I drew back as Scott clenched his teeth together, “Honestly! Malcolm, you have no right to tell Scott how to raise his son! You have no idea of the circumstances! And Scott, sweetie, I hate to take Malcolm’s side-.”

“Wait, excuse me?!” I gaped, offended, but she just glared at me before looking back at Scott.

“It does sound like you’re enabling Rebel by allowing him to hide. When kids are young it’s good for them to know that their parents are there for them, they have someone to go to when things are tough, but he needs freedom as well! Sometimes you really do need to push a little to get them to open up, go off on their own to make friends. You were shy at first, remember? Malcolm helped you.”

Scott was staring down, lips sealed in a tight line, “I know that already.”

“Then why are you arguing so much?” I demanded, and Scott lifted a fist, punching the table, and making the dishes clang.

“What do you expect from me?! What am I supposed to do when my son limps into the house with blood pouring from his nose because the other kids in our pack cornered him and beat him bloody?!” my eyes widened and Cecilia gasped as Scott seemed to deflate, bowing his head, “That’s why he’s so scared. He’s not shy, he wants to make friends, but every time he tries the pups just… reject him,” he lifted his head and glared at me, “So fine, I’m enabling him, whatever. If wanting to protect my son from those little bastards is enabling, I don’t care!”