Hello y'all! I couldn't stand the way that Allison and Isaac left the show so here is my AU which will mostly follow the canon storyline with only a few critical changes regarding the afforementioned characters. I hope you enjoy it, each chapter will start with a song that at least moderately has something to do with what is occuring in the chapter. Feel free to just read the excerpted lyrics or listen to the full song with this first one being "Bring You Back" by: Brett Eldredge (Sorry but sometimes my Southern roots make an appearance and this song was just too perfect to pass up!) Again, I hope you enjoy and without further ado...

Chapter 1: "Bring You Back"

"In a second my world changed

So fast that my heart was breaking

I wrapped my arms around you

And I just kept saying your name and

I put your hands in my hands

And we dropped to the floor board crying

At the moment your heart gave up on us

I told you,

I'll bring you back, I'll bring you back,

I'll bring you back to love, I will,

Bring you back, I'll bring you back,

I'll bring you back to love"

Scott couldn't handle it. Every time her breaths stopped, paused too long, and then shakily resumed drove him insane. He couldn't save her and she was unknowingly making him feel worse for it. A sick feeling flooded through him and he started to shake not just with fear but as a physical manifestation of his inability to save her taking its toll on him. Finally, when he was practically vibrating with tremors and the bile kept pushing at the back of his throat, he turned to his friend, roommate, and fellow pack member Isaac with his brown eyes uncharacteristically empty. "I-I-I c-c-can't-t do this-s-s!" He stammered out and Isaac looked at him in shock. All Allison wanted was to die in her first love's arms, which alone was like a dagger twisting in Isaac's chest because it wasn't him, but Scott couldn't handle it; he couldn't handle not saving her. The alpha couldn't comprehend that the independent huntress didn't need saving, that she could save herself, but just needed someone to hold her close so that she wasn't alone. But Isaac knew, he knew the fear of being alone better than anyone else. So even though his wounds weren't healing like they should and he was bleeding out slowly himself, he dragged his aching body next to his alphas.

Pushing through the red haze of pain that had come over his vision the more he moved, he crawled forward leaving bloody streaks on the concrete but he didn't dwell long on those either. Painfully he forced his unresponsive limbs to pull and push his body into a seated position, using a box to prop himself up, and gestured for the girl in his leader's arms. "I will." He wheezed out as the trembling Scott practically threw the dying Allison into Isaac's waiting, shaking, and bloody arms. As soon as Scott was free of her burden, he scooted backwards until he could safely stand without hurting the dying girl and wounded boy before he staggered away and threw up. Once his stomach was empty and there was nothing left in him to get rid of, he wiped his mouth and glanced back at the pair before he turned and sprinted away whimpering all the while with Kira following him calling his name and her mother trailing behind them.

Alone and with the dying, Isaac finally allowed the tears to spill from his own eyes. After being beaten for so many years, he couldn't cry in pain in front of others. Sometimes he lost control like he had back in the vet clinic but for the most part he kept his emotions locked up tight behind a smirk or a frown around everyone; everyone except Allison. Glancing down at her, his heart shattered into pieces as he held the only person he had ever loved so deeply. She held his whole heart and didn't even know it, but even if she did, she didn't return his affection. At that moment, he did what Scott couldn't and put aside his pain and his feelings as he shakily brushed away a strand of her dark chocolate brown hair as a breath rattled through her. "I know you wanted to die in his arms, not mine, and for that I'm sorry." He whispered so low that Allison only heard him as an echo of an already past moment. "He was your first love, not me, but I'll try, God will I try. You won't die alone."

Isaac tried but he couldn't hold back the whimpers and tears spilled freely from his eyes as her breathing paused hitching on the blood congealing in her throat, before it rattled back in full force. He too was shaking, just like Scott had been, but he didn't leave; he never could leave her. "I loved you more than you will ever know and I know you can't hear me nor does it change anything but please." For a moment he couldn't go on, couldn't push the words past the tight lump in his throat but they suddenly flooded out all at once, too fast to be understandable as one word. "Pleasdonleavme." Taking a deep breath, he repeated himself sounding just like the scared kid he had never been allowed to be, "Please don't leave me." The voice of his father echoed in his head berating him for his weakness, for needing someone and not being able to fix anything. "I can't fix this now!" The memory screamed in his thoughts but he pushed it away as he cradled a scrapped and grit covered hand under her chin supporting her head and making it easier for her to breathe. "You'll think it's weak, just like he did, to need someone but I'm just not strong enough Allison. Hell, you're dying because I was weak and needed someone to save me, I'm sorry." The last sentence was more sobbed than spoken if he was being honest so he repeated it, "It's my fault, I'm so so sorry."

Her breath rattled back and her eyes fluttered open meeting his and startling him as she gasped out, "Sil- Sil- Sil-" and his hand found hers and squeezed it tight as he finished the word for her, "Silver?" She wheezed out a sigh in relief as he understood what she hadn't been able to tell Scott. Scott, the boy she first loved but, who left her when she needed him most. Isaac wasn't leaving her, how fitting that the boy she last loved was the one holding her close; it made so much more sense than her first love to tell the truth; the truth! Despite the blood choking her she tried to speak some more but even with his keen hearing Isaac couldn't understand her. Leaning closer so that his ear was nestled right up with the blood covered lips that had been his first kiss, their eyes locked together as his tears spilled onto her pale and drawn cheeks before trailing down her jaw line and pitter pattering onto his side. Her own eyes welled up at the sight of the broken boy re-shattering into a million shards. He had trusted her to heal him and put him back together but instead she was just tearing him apart all over again. "I'm not ready." Allison gasped out as her already dying heart contracted in shared pain; she wasn't ready to leave him. A sob ripped through his throat even as her lungs disobeyed her will and surrendered.

Seconds flew by and then a whole minute before it fully hit him, she was gone. No more rattles of life escaping her chest and floated of into the breeze defying the reality of her dying. Oh no, she was gone this time and it made his chest contract and his own breathing grow short in panic attack level gasps that mirrored those of Stiles. Closing his eyes, he forced air in with a deep breath and exhaled it as a hoarse scream that mixed with Lydia's Banshee screech. The noise wouldn't stop, he had no more air and his body was still screaming out the last of his reserve in a hoarse cry that would have almost been a howl if it didn't sound so damn heartbreaking. When he finally stopped yelling, he looked down at his first love and rasped out an impossible promise to the dead girl in his arms. "I'll bring you back. I'll bring you back. I'll bring you back." Tumbled out of his mouth in a barely audible whisper, over and over like a mantra as he clung to her corpse and clutched her hand tighter and tighter as though it would tether him to life even as she moved further away from life into death. He was all alone in the abandoned yard, everyone else was gone. They couldn't handle it; but he couldn't run. Not from her, never from her. Even when she had been trying to kill him ages ago, he couldn't run nor fight back; he'd been tethered to her even then.

The only sound that finally ceased his chanted mantra was the familiar clomp of combat boots and the sound of Chris Argent's hoarse yells as he searched for them. "ALLISON! ISAAC!" When Isaac tried to respond, he finally realized that he had screamed and whispered himself hoarse and there was something in him that wouldn't let him heal the bloody stabs and scratches let alone his sore vocal cords, but was instead making him more light headed. It was getting harder to focus on anything but the girl in his arms but Isaac pushed away the darkness and the relief that unconsciousness would give him. Finally he felt Argent step close enough to hear him rasp out an, "Over here!" Those two words weakened him far more than they should have and it shocked him to the point of losing control of the darkness that flooded from just the edges of his vision to the forefront. Of course getting help would be the straw that broke the camel's back, he mused pessimistically before he pitched forwards into unconsciousness. His head lolled forward onto his chest and rested lightly against Allison's just as Argent stepped around the corner and found them.

"No. No! NO!" He roared as he rushed across the darkened yard and he fell to his knees in front of the pair. His keen hunter's ears only heard one heartbeat and whisper of breath and it wasn't the same one that he remembered beating against his chest when she was little and would still fall asleep in his lap as he held her close and questioned, even then, if what they were doing was right. Her absence hit him like a ton of bricks and tore an irreparable hole in his heart, for someone who could compartmentalize so well, he was absolutely overcome with grief. It took what felt like ages for his brain to take over, to push aside the pain and guilt and rationally fix this. The boy, Isaac, he realized wasn't dead but he wasn't healing either evidently. Without Allison, Isaac was all that Argent had left and that was all it took for his instinct to take over as his mind pushed the emotion into tiny little boxes in his head. He'd unpack them later if he was strong enough but not now, now he had to help Isaac.

Normally it would have been more rational to let the police come in and lie to them as they took care of the crime scene, but something deep down inside him told him not to. Instead he decided that he would just bring her with him to the vet clinic and Deaton would help him figure out what to do with her after that. Now was just about getting Isaac help and that meant taking his daughter with him, so that is what he did. Prying apart the boy's deathly tight grip on her took more physical and emotional strength than Argent expected and he was breathing heavily from the effort by the time he finally got Isaac to let go. Lifting up the corpse of his little girl almost forced the boxes in his head open but he robotically forced his feet forward one step at a time until he was back in front of his SUV. She weighed barely anything at all he realized as he laid her down lightly in the back of his car. Pulling a moving blanket over her, he covered her body gently just like he had when he tucked her in as a child. Pivoting, he marched back to where Isaac was still propped up against the box and lifted him up gently. He was lighter than Argent expected, despite his height and muscle, and it almost forced another emotional wave of grief through him as he realized how young the two kids really were. They were just kids doing an adult's job and having to grow up too fast to fill the shoes of the hero because no one else could or would. But he didn't allow himself to dwell on it too long and instead placed him gently beside his daughter. Before he had a chance to close the trunk, he watched as Isaac, even in his unconscious state, reached out and found Allison's hand as he whimpered pitifully. It took everything Argent had in him to turn away and slam the door before sliding into the driver's seat, thrusting the car into drive and accelerating towards the vet clinic.

Deaton had expected casualties from the confrontation, to be honest he always did, but he had never wanted to be proven more wrong than he did tonight. Most nights his fears were for naught, but as the headlights of a certain hunter's SUV flashed through the front windows his blood turned to ice Throwing open the door, he rushed to the SUV and his imagination ran wild with fear. How many were injured? Or, worse, gone? The pair met at the trunk and Argent pulled it open to reveal the sight of Isaac's gray blue eyes fluttering open only to close again as unconsciousness reclaimed him and the blanket covered figure whose only visible feature was the maroon painted finger nails on the hand that Isaac refused to let go of. "This isn't right." Deaton murmured to himself as Argent numbly looked at him for directions, even with packing away his emotions he had become like a husk; there was nothing left to tie him down. Ignoring him, the vet recalled the visions of the future that had been plaguing him for weeks; the visions that she and this werewolf boy were in. Most visions of the future were obviously unstable but these had never been clearer or more set in stone. There was some way around this complication, there had to be.

"Come on Deaton, help me get him inside. It might take us both to separate them again alone." Argent's empty voice interrupted his thoughts causing Deaton to turn and look at the grieving father. Suddenly an idea came to the healer and he shook his head startling the hunter who was used to being obeyed by everyone save maybe his little girl and her werewolf best friend, even Scott and Stiles surprisingly listened. "No, carry him inside. I'll take Allison." Deaton declared startling the hunter even further, what good would it do to bring her in too? She was already dead and gone after all. The vet ignored Argent's confusion as the cogs in his mind turned weighing the pros and cons of his epiphany. What he was considering wasn't a guarantee, in fact it had never been attempted before to his knowledge, but he had to try, consequences be damned. Argent finally had regained his voice as he reached inside to separate the teen's hands, "But…but…she's…" The vet interrupted him and stopped him from pulling the teen's hands apart with a light touch on his shoulder. "Not for long if I can help it. Don't pull them apart either, Isaac needs her and I need him to tether her back to reality." To be honest, the hunter was even more confused now but he merely nodded and blindly followed the orders of the healer beside him. He would do anything the good vet ordered to not only keep Isaac alive but also to get his baby girl back.

By the time they had managed to get the two inside and onto the two cold silver tables that normally were used for vet examinations or autopsies in the morgue, Deaton and Argent were exhausted; it was much harder to get two people through the door than they had expected. Lying there as they were, it was hard to tell who was dead and who was not, even their hands interlocked together didn't give it away because hers was locked in rigor mortis and his was holding hers equally tight. Deaton realized that Argent was unsure of how to be helpful and looked fairly close to keeling over in shock himself, "What can I do?" He asked his voice sounding shakier than normal and lacking it's usual authority in his uncertainty, he was taught how to kill not to heal or resurrect. The vet was used to shocked animals who wouldn't talk back so his bedside manner was slightly lacking as he rushed back into his back room and apathetically hollered back, "Stitch him up!" Since this was his only direction from the focused healer, Argent did as he was commanded and poked through a few drawers to find the necessary equipment: gauze, rubbing alcohol, scissors, needle, thick coarse black thread, and tape.

Returning to the boy's side, Argent carefully pushed aside the leather jacket that Isaac always wore and carefully snipped through the maroon shirt underneath. Normally it would have been easier to just pull it off the unconscious boy but it was stuck to his wounds and it took much peeling and whimpering before Argent could even catch a glimpse of the wounds he was dealing with. The huge stab in Isaac's abdomen mirrored what he had seen of Allison's injury and that sent a pang through him, but ignoring the emotion, as he always did, Argent took in the other scratches and stabs in his torso that added up to a grand total of at least six that needed stitches and twenty more that had to be bandaged. What scared him more than the sheer amount of injuries that weren't healing, were the scars that crisscrossed the visible parts of Isaac's chest and sides. Argent had heard about the abuse that Isaac suffered but this was beyond what he had expected, what Isaac's father had done to him was not merely a terrible crime, it was a heinous atrocity. Retuning his mind to the task at hand, he quickly cleaned the wounds then unsteadily threaded the needle, stabbing himself a few times in the process, before working from the biggest of the injuries to the smallest. With his hands busy and moving on autopilot, his mind roamed causing the stitches to be uneven and ragged. He couldn't lose Isaac too, the boy had become like the son Argent had never had over the past few months and if what Deaton was trying didn't work, he was all that Argent had left to cling to in this life so he clung tightly putting all he had into the task of saving him.

Given how lost he was in his work and thoughts, Argent didn't notice Deaton return clutching a jar of gray powder, a vial of epinephrine* and a rather large syringe. Dumping the contents on the little bit of open space that Argent had left him on the counter, the vet gave a cursory glance at Argent's handiwork. Though the stitches were uneven and would have added another gruesome scar to Isaac's collection if not for Isaac's werewolf healing powers (that is only if they ever kicked in) but as long as he was stitched together that was all that mattered, so Deaton returned his full attention to the task at hand. Mixing a large portion of the gray powder with the liquid epinephrine in a bowl, he pulled as much of the concoction that he could into the syringe and carefully attached a needle to the end of it before placing it on the counter gently so that it could settle as he turned to the dead girl on the table. Grabbing the scissors that Argent had discarded, he snipped and ripped off the top part of the dress that was obscuring the gaping wound in her center. Cleaning it carefully, he began the arduous process of stitching together the skin on her abdomen before gingerly rolling her onto her side, all the time ensuring that she and Isaac's hands stayed interlocked, before stitching up the exit wound in her back. Snatching up the syringe, he flicked it with his finger to rid it of any oxygen bubbles before positioning it directly above her unbeating heart. Praying to any and all deities he could think of, Deaton plunged the needle into her chest and pressed on the stopper with his free hand as he injected the mixture into her and prayed even harder to any he'd forgotten that this would work. It had to work; she couldn't just die, she was far too important for that.

*= This is really just the science nerd in me wanting to be accurate here. Epinephrine is the scientific name for adrenaline anf that is a hormnone that stimulates the heart and promotes blood flow. Though highly debated by the American College of Cardiology, it has been used to restart the heart but is a great risk because it can either further worsen the condition and lead to death or restart the heart.

I hope you enjoyed that first part, sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger but, I'm sure that you, dear reader, can aleady assume what will happen next and therefore will not be too angry with me (I hope!). I should update 1-2 times a week depending on how busy I get but in the meantime, read, enjoy and review (because reviews make for happier and more productive writers, it's a scientific fact). Thanks for reading and happy trails!