Isaac waited.
He counted it out in his head without really meaning to—one… two… three…—until nearly a full minute had passed since the trio disappeared around the corner. Only then did the classroom door crack open.
Taylor emerged slowly, like she expected something to jump out at her the moment she crossed the threshold. She leaned out first, head swiveling as she scanned the hallway, eyes sharp and searching. When nothing happened, she stepped fully outside—and then froze when she saw him still there.
Her surprise showed immediately.
"…You're still here," she said.
"Yo," Isaac replied easily, pushing himself off the wall as he gave a small wave.
She narrowed her eyes at him, gave a guarded, "Hey," and then looked past him, down both ends of the hallway again. Her shoulders were tight, posture coiled like she was bracing for a trap like Emma, Madison, and Sophia would appear any second now but nothing happened.
Isaac let the silence stretch, not saying anything more to give her time to realize that she wasn't about to get jumped or humiliated. When her gaze finally returned to him, he answered the unspoken question.
"Sooo, I was just about to hit lunch," he said. "You in?"
That made her frown deepen.
"…Do you know what you just did?" she asked.
He opened his mouth, but she didn't wait.
"You don't," she said quickly, shaking her head. "You're new. You don't get it yet. Those three? They're untouchable. They can say whatever they want, do whatever they want, and nobody does anything. Teachers don't care. Students don't care. Administration definitely doesn't care."
Her fist clenched at her sides, voice tight as she kept going.
"And now you just painted a giant target on your back. Congratulations! From now until we graduate or drop out of this hellhole, you'll have to deal with them ruining your life."
"I doubt it'll be that bad," Isaac said honestly.
As annoying as it would be for Maddison and Emma to start getting the rumor mill running, it ultimately didn't matter. Once the consequences of Sophia's actions came to bite, the fallout for the trio would be far worse than any believable rumour they could spread about him.
Taylor didn't know that though.
"It will!" she snapped, the word coming out sharp and loud enough to echo in the empty hall.
She flinched at herself immediately, eyes widening before she swallowed hard. "Sorry. I—" She took a breath, calming herself before continuing. "It will," she repeated, quieter but no less certain. "You think just because you're big and strong that nothing they can do will matter? They won't fight you themselves. They'll lie. Drag your name through the mud. Ruin your grades. Push buttons until you swing first or just get boys to jump you."
She laughed, short and bitter from almost two years of constant defeat. "And the funny thing is, even if you got past all that? Emma's dad is a lawyer. You lay a hand on her or her friends and he'll make sure you never stop paying for it."
She turned away, already moving to leave. "You shouldn't have done that Isaac. And please don't do it again if you want them to forget about you. I can handle my own problems."
Isaac let her walk, annoyed at the Trio for messing up his opportunity to befriend her today.
While he certainly didn't expect her to laud him as her saviour, he also hadn't expected her to reject him so strongly or maintain her defeatist attitude, especially after the achievements she earned just last night.
She was now officially a hero. Not the polished, press-ready kind the PRT loved to parade around just because they had powers, but the real kind—the kind who would put her life on the line for strangers because it was the right thing to do.
So why hadn't she changed, or more accurately, why had she stayed the same after last night? Compared to facing down Lung, whatever high school girls could do shouldn't even make her blink. Yet she was still scared of them.
This gnawed at the Operator.
Baffled him really.
Was the reason she acted like this to maintain a divide in personality between her regular self and her cape identity? Ridiculous. Both her identities were not separate people or personalities, just two expressions of the same will. Yet she acted as though taking off the mask meant she was no longer allowed to be brave, or strong, or worthy of being protected in return.
The more he turned it over in his mind, the more it irritated him, a quiet resolve building with every thought until it settled into a single, unavoidable conclusion.
He couldn't let this continue.
On his honor as a Tenno, Isaac would not allow her to live like this any longer.
"I will," he said before she had gotten far down the hall.
She stopped dead and spun back around. "What?"
He walked steady and fast with purpose as he closed the distance between them. Getting as close as possible without entering her personal space.
"I will," he repeated, calm and resolute as if the matter was already decided.
"Did you hear anything I just said," she demanded angrily.
"I did," he replied. "All of it. And none of it changes anything."
She stared at him as if she were looking at an alien.
"Why?" she half shouted. "Why won't you just stay out of my business!?"
"Because you matter to me Taylor," he said bluntly, looking her directly in the eyes to get his point across.
Taylor went still as a faint flush crept up her cheeks. Isaac had the brief, distant thought that maybe he'd phrased that wrong—she was clearly embarrassed by it—but he didn't take it back. Backtracking would weaken the point.
"Y-you—," she stammered, blushing more before readjusting herself to speak clearly. "That's ridiculous. We just met yesterday."
"Yes," he agreed, without hesitation. "And yet I like you."
"But you barely know me! You can't just—" She tried to argue.
"That's true," he cut in, smiling. "But you can tell a lot about a person by asking them for help. And you helped me even when you thought that no one in this school would bother lifting a finger to help you. That tells me more than enough to make me want to know more."
She faltered.
The tension in her shoulders eased by. Her hands, which had curled into fists during her tirade, loosened.
Isaac saw it immediately and continued speaking before she could rally again.
"So even if you dislike me for helping," he said calmly. "Even if you really can handle them on your own. I won't back down. So you're just gonna have to deal with not carrying your burdens alone anymore."
Taylor stared at him.
Really stared this time, like she was trying to decide whether he was truly genuine or just another Trio lackey trying to trick her again. Her mouth opened, then closed again. Whatever retort she'd been gearing up for didn't come.
Instead, her eyes went glassy for a second. She scrubbed at them with the heel of her hand, turning her face away like she was embarrassed to have let it show. Isaac stayed where he was, saying nothing, giving her the space to get herself under control.
When she turned back, she looked steadier. Still tense and wary. But she didn't look like she was going to tell him off.
"Fine," she said, almost glaring up at him like she was daring him to mess this up. "Don't make me regret this, Isaac."
He had to bite back a sharp grin at that. There was something in her eyes now that hadn't been there before—hope mixed with a very clear promise of consequences if he betrayed her. It suited her far better than the downcast, guarded look she usually wore.
"Wouldn't even dream of it," he replied easily, extending a hand toward her. "Friends?"
Her gaze dropped to his hand instead of his face. She hesitated for half a second, then reached out and clasped it, her grip firm despite how small her hand felt in his.
"Friends," she echoed.
Isaac gave her hand a single shake before letting go, then tilted his head slightly, voice softening as he asked the earlier question again like nothing heavy had just happened.
"So, friend," he said, "since we've still got lots of time before next period… wanna join me for lunch?"
He waited for her answer.
She huffed despite herself, then caught it and tried to look serious again. It didn't quite stick because of the small smile she was sporting.
"I don't like the cafeteria," she said bluntly. "Emma and her friends are usually there, and they'll definitely try something if we show up."
Isaac considered that for a moment, gaze flicking down the empty hallway to see Gladly leaving his room before returning his sight to her.
"I doubt they'll regroup fast enough to try anything else today," he said. "At least not before we're done eating."
"And what makes you so confident you can predict them?" she shot back. "You've been here for two days."
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Isaacs mouth as he remembered that she had left school earlier yesterday.
"Well," he said, tone mirthful, "funny thing about yesterday…"
___________________________________________________
Taylor stared at him as he finished talking, her tray balanced awkwardly in her hands as they stepped off the lunch line and paused just past the bottleneck of students shuffling forward. The noise of the cafeteria pressed in around them—voices, laughter, chairs scraping—but she barely seemed to notice.
"You're serious," she said finally.
Isaac shrugged, casual as ever. "About as serious as I get, yeah."
He hadn't embellished anything. He'd told her what had happened in the lunchroom yesterday—how things had escalated after school and a full on free for all brawl broke out. He'd even filled her in on how the situation had ended with him being let off easily instead of suspended and how he ended up giving Sophia a lift to the boardwalk. He once again didn't bother to mention her predator-prey nonsense.
That hadn't saved him from the stink eye she was giving him now.
"I can't believe you gave her a ride?" Taylor hissed, lowering her voice only because they were in public.
"It's not nearly as personal as it sounds," Isaac explained calmly. "I didn't offer the ride to her in particular. I offered it to anyone in the room at the time, even that E88 kid, and he tried to jump me."
That earned him a sharp, incredulous scoff. "Unbelievable."
He smirked. That was a word that described him far more than she could likely comprehend so he took it in stride like it was a compliment.
If anything, he'd expected a worse reaction considering he'd blatantly admitted to bribing the principal. But he suspected that it hadn't shocked Taylor much because she already believed that Blackwell was corrupt. The Principal taking bribes to look the other way would just be par for the course to her.
Isaac's eyes watched her as she shifted her weight, gaze flicking past him toward the far end of the cafeteria. He followed it instinctively, scanning the tables until he spotted who she was looking for.
Emma and Madison were clustered with their usual crowd near the corner. Sophia sat with them too. She wasn't talking or laughing with them though. She was watching. When her eyes met Isaac's and she saw who he was with, her mouth twisted into a familiar scowl.
Taylor quickly looked away.
"Well," she said quietly, bitterness creeping into her tone, "I can see why you were so relaxed about stepping in earlier. The system's already on your side."
Isaac glanced down at her, then gently nudged her elbow with his own. "It's on yours too."
She snorted. "Since when?"
"Since yesterday," he said. "And since today. From now on, you and any one else they mess with won't be ignored."
"Fat chance," she replied, shaking her head. "You can't know or vouch for everyone they decide to go after."
"I won't need to."
She looked at him, skeptical so he opened his mouth to answer —but didn't get the chance.
"Uh—big bro?"
The voice was hesitant but clear. Isaac turned just as a boy stepped into their path. He looked familiar, so it only took Isaac a second to place him without the blood and swelling.
Same kid from the principals office yesterday, Bloody Nose.
Up close, he looked a little older than Isaac had initially thought. Cleaned up, the bruising around his nose was faint and yellowing, no longer angry red. His skin tone and facial features suggested mixed heritage—Latino and Asian—and his black hoodie sported a faded Batman logo stretched across the chest. Cargo pants, scuffed sneakers. He stood a little hunched, like he was expecting someone to yell at him for being in the way.
"Hey," Isaac said, surprised. "What's up?"
The kid swallowed. "Uh. I—I just wanted to say… your seat is ready. Nate and Brandon are already there."
Isaac blinked in confusion, a single brow raised. "My seats?"
The boy nodded quickly, then glanced at Taylor before looking at him again.
"This is my friend Taylor," Isaac said, filling the silence.
"Oh," the kid said, like that confirmed something important. "Yeah. I—hi."
Taylor, caught off guard, just meekly said hi back.
Isaac tried to think of his name before realizing he never got it. "What's your name by the way? I don't think I caught it yesterday."
"Carlos," he said immediately. "Carlos Diaz."
"Good to meet you, Carlos," Isaac replied. "And… big bro?"
Carlos flushed. "S-sorry. It's just—Nate said to call you that."
Taylor shot him a look, equal parts confused and incredulous.
Isaac lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. He was just as clueless as her on this matter. He didn't exactly tell Nate and Brandon to do all this.
Carlos shifted from foot to foot. "So… yeah. They're waiting."
"Lead the way," Isaac replied easily. The sooner he found those two, the faster answers would come.
Carlos nodded and turned, weaving confidently through people and tables.
Taylor leaned closer as they followed. "Isaac, is there something important you want to tell me? Maybe something you left out of your story?"
Isaac shrugged again. "Nope. Why do you think I'm confused?"
She didn't question him for the rest of the walk.
When they reached the table, Taylor's steps slowed almost immediately.
There were a lot of people there.
More than a normal lunch table could reasonably justify. Some were sitting, trays balanced on their knees or pushed aside to make space. Others stood behind them, sitting backwards on the benches nearby or hovering just close enough to be included. When Carlos led Isaac up from behind, the quiet hum of conversation dropped into whispers almost instantly.
Eyes turned.
Taylor stiffened beside him.
Carlos, blissfully unaware or simply unbothered, continued to weave through the gathered students and stopped at a very specific gap at the table—one deliberately left open between Brandon and Nate.
"Here big bro," Carlos said, gesturing like this had always been the plan. "Your seat."
Isaac raised an eyebrow but went to sit.
Nate and Brandon spotted him with Taylor almost immediately and both sighed at the same time, the sound long-suffering but not hostile.
"Called it," Nate muttered.
"Yeah," Brandon added, rubbing his face. "This tracks with Mr White Knight."
Someone at the far end of the table stood without complaint, tray in hand, shifting to make room for Taylor.
She stopped walking.
Her shoulders were tight, her grip on her tray just a little too firm. She leaned toward Isaac, voice low. "Why are there so many people? Is this a gang?"
Isaac didn't answer right away, because he didn't know. Instead, he tilted his head toward her and said quietly, "I don't think so but sit with me and you'll be fine."
That didn't immediately convince her.
She scanned the table again and he did the same. The looks weren't hostile but they were intense, curious and focused.
I don't think—"
"Taylor," he said, gently. "Trust me."
She hesitated another beat, then exhaled and sat.
The tension in her posture didn't disappear, but she didn't let it show on her face. Isaac took the seat beside her, placing himself squarely between Nate and Brandon, with Taylor tucked in close on his other side.
The whispering picked up again, quieter but more animated now that he was seated.
Brandon leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Sooo," he said, dragging the word out. "We figure you've got a few questions."
Isaac made a thoughtful sound. "I wonder what gave it away. Anyways, what's with the gathering?"
Nate took over. "These guys?" He thumbed over his shoulder at the cluster of students. "They're your fan club."
Isaac's brain stuttered as he took that in. Then he looked at him. "I'm sorry—my what?"
Nate just shrugged like he was saying the sky was blue. "Fan club."
Isaac glanced between Nate and Brandon. "You guys set this up?"
"Nope," Brandon answered immediately. "Not us."
Nate shook his head. "I mean, I thought something like this might happen eventually. Just… not this fast. And not without me knowing first."
"I see," Isaac said mildly.
He looked over the crowd properly now.
There were a lot of boys. A few girls. Most of them were what anyone could call nerdy. A lot of hoodies, graphic tees, and backpacks with frayed straps. Several had visible bruises—knuckles scabbed over, a split lip, a fading black eye. Injuries that looked fresh.
Yesterday fresh.
"Alright," Isaac said aloud for them to hear him. "Who started it then?"
Carlos, who was behind him, straightened like he'd been waiting for the question.
"I did big bro," he answered.
"And why did you do that?" Isaac asked as he twisted his body to look at him.
Carlos swallowed, then squared his shoulders. "Because I admired that you stood your ground."
Low incoherent murmurs spread out in the group as he spoke.
"You were surrounded by E88," Carlos continued, voice gaining confidence. "Outnumbered with an easy way out and you didn't take it. You fought back against them and you won."
Isaac stayed quiet, making sure his face betrayed nothing.
"And you didn't just beat them," Carlos went on. "Even if unintentionally, you gave everyone a chance to fight. And then—" He hesitated, then pushed on. "You pulled strings. You got us out of trouble. Even that Empire kid."
Someone muttered, "Shouldn't have done that in my opinion."
He was ignored.
"And you didn't rub it in or gloat about it," Carlos finished. "You just… let it be over and I thought… I thought that was really cool."
A general noise of agreement came from the group.
"So I figured that since you'll definitely become a target in the future, we should make a group to support you. Force them to back off with big numbers. Everyone here are the people that would join us on short notice," Carlos explained. "But it's not all of them. Some just didn't want to skip class to show up."
Isaac turned from him to look over the faces of the group, picked up his fork, and nudged his food around, buying himself a moment.
Internally, he was practically vibrating.
This was just what he needed and everything was falling into place faster than he'd planned. He'd expected to have to put way more groundwork and time into getting to know people and winning them over. Instead, Carlos had done the heavy lifting for him.
He could almost hug the kid right now!
All he needed to do now was seize the opportunity presented.
"I'm glad you're all here," he said, voice level and unforced. "And I appreciate the intent behind forming this group. Really. But I want to be clear about what this is—and what it isn't."
He shifted slightly, forearms resting on the table, posture relaxed but deliberate.
"I don't want a protection detail and I'm not handing out orders like some wannabe gang leader." His gaze moved across the group, steady, making sure the message landed. "I don't want anyone starting fights in my name. I don't want people throwing themselves into trouble because they think I expect it, or because they think I'll back them no matter what."
A few people visibly relaxed. Others stayed tense, waiting to hear the rest.
"What I am interested in," he continued, "is making sure nobody here gets isolated. This is only my second day, and I've already seen how this place works. People get singled out. Cornered. Picked off one at a time. And everyone else pretends not to notice because it's safer that way."
He didn't call anyone out by name or even look at them. He didn't have to. Shame turned the head of the guilty.
"But If you're here because you're tired of that—because you don't want to watch someone get picked on and think, 'At least it's not me'—then we're on the same page."
A few heads nodded. Slowly. Carefully.
"Now, I get that not everyone can be strong or fearless," Isaac went on. "If we were, none of us would be sitting here. But this—" he gestured around the table, "—this is how you start fixing that. Look out for each other. Speak up when someone's being pushed. You step in when it's safe, and you get help when it's not."
He spread his hands slightly, palms up.
"And if someone won't back off or tries to make an example out of you for doing the right thing?" His eyes hardened. "Then I'll stand with you. I'll speak up for you. I'll fight for you. Every day and every time."
He let silence reign for a short time as he looked around smiling one last time.
"You with me on this," he finished.
The cheers that followed were a bit too enthusiastic but it was fine. Everything was going according to plan.
_____________________________________
A/N: From this chapter onward, I'm more obviously speeding up the whole HS politics business. So if the fanclub and befriending taylor seems a little rushed or forced, that's why. Its fun to write it but we gonna get back to the meat and bones of why you were interested in this fic in the first place. That means Warframes, fighting, death, and grimdark world vs a child shaped cosmic horror! But if your fine with the previous pacing then just let me known and I'll keep it. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!