I wasn't quite sure what was happening, all I knew was that I was sitting in a small, grassy clearing in the reserve. There wasn't much grass, it spat out stubbornly to grow like weeds, pushing through the fallen leaves. Sunlight poured through the trees, speckling the ground with patches of light, warmth radiating from its touch. There was no wind, the air was still, no breeze tickling the branches, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Instead, it was just so much easier to breathe.

And then, the world went dark.

"Guess who?" An unmistakable soft, honey voice flooded my ears, my brain, and my heart.

"Isaac," I groaned, a grin made its way onto my lips without my noticing, as I swatted the offending hands away. The boy in question appeared in my line of sight, wearing his signature lopsided, toothy grin. "What are you doing here?"

"What?" He held his grin, but tilted his head in confusion. "I told you, we came here for a picnic."

Was I always sitting on a checkered blanket? Was there always a woven basket beside me? Huh.

"Sorry, I-I guess I just blacked out or something." I shook my head, looking down at my hands.

"Are you okay?" His voice pulled my eyes up to his own ones, though they weren't the same. His once bright blue eyes were dark and grey, sunken and hollow. His pale skin was void of life, and his left eye was surrounded by blue and purple, bruising painfully. His lips were thin and pale instead of smiling and red, with a bleeding cut beginning to swell. All of a sudden, his once joyful demeanour was replaced by a thin, broken one. Tears flooded his eyes as they poured out down his sallow cheeks.

"Oh, oh, my God, Isaac!" I cried, reaching out to grab him, pull him into me and comfort him, but to no avail. He was just out of my reach, and no matter how close I got, he always was. I shuffled closer, and he was always too far away, never within my reach, always staring at me with his lifeless, pleading eyes.

"Kara, help me!" He screamed, his hand shooting out to grab mine, with as much luck as I had.

"I'm trying!" I was frozen, unable to move a muscle, when Mr. Lahey came out from nowhere, grabbing his son by his hair, and pulling him away, stealing him, taking him from me. I was powerless, weak, and I could hear Isaac's screams for help.

Harsh beeps entered this horrid world, rapidly overtaking the sound of Isaac's pleas for me to do something, anything.

"Kara!" My name echoed, the last thing I heard among the beeping.

And again, the world went dark.

I struggled to breathe, my lungs just couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. But my ears worked perfectly well, people talking loudly around me, some making orders, some asking what's wrong, footsteps reverberated hollowly among the voices.

A soft feminine voice reached me, it was unfamiliar, but warm.

"Kara, it's okay," she spoke. "You're safe here, don't worry. You don't need to wake up right away, but you do need to calm down."

Was she an angel? She must've been. My eyes fluttered open, greeting the angel above me. She didn't much look like an angel, but who was I to say who is and isn't a holy being. Her hair was frizzy, tied back into a bun, or ponytail, I couldn't really tell from here. And her eyes were warm, doe-like eyes, that spoke volumes. She was tanned, and her smile was peaceful. She was the last thing I saw before letting the darkness pull me back in, my eyes fluttering closed once more.

"She'll be okay, Mrs. Moore," a perky voice rung out.

"Yeah, if anyone can handle Lydia's makeover, they can handle this." Another voice, softer, more kind, her words causing a small rupture of half-hearted laughter.

"You're right, girls," a much more mature voice spoke, "she'll be fine."

"You know, you girls don't have to stay here, we'll look after her." A man's voice now came into the picture. There was some shuffling before the perky voice spoke out again.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Moore, we were thinking the same thing." The sound of high heels got louder. Or were they getting closer? "You still need to work, and Scott's mom is pretty much always here, and we've been coming here after school every day. Why don't you relax, go back to work, and we'll look after Kara when you're not here?"

"Oh, Lydia, Allison, we couldn't ask such a thing!" The woman's voice responded in haste.

"Of course you can, because we care about Kara, too, and we won't leave her alone if we can hep it." The soft, gentle voice came out. I knew these voices, and I wasn't sure why. They were so familiar. And those names…Lydia, Allison, Moore? It was like lightbulb moment clicked above my head.

Lydia and Allison, my friends at school…and Moore, my parents…how could I forget?

"We'll wait for her to wake up, just like she waited for me." Lydia said with conviction and pride, a voice I knew to be her 'no arguing' voice. Not that she didn't always have that kind of voice but this one in particular was absolutely, no nonsense.

"She's supposed to have waken by now," I heard my mother speak sadly, a shiver to her voice that struck me through my heart. I wanted to speak up, 'I'm here, I'm okay, everything's fine,' but my voice wouldn't work. My eyes wouldn't open.

"Maybe she's just taking her time." My father spoke up again. It was odd to hear emotion in his words, unless he was talking about something science-y, he was usually very monotonous. That hit me hard as well. 'Please, I'm fine, I'm awake, I promise, I'm here!'

I tried to force my eyes open, begging myself to pull through, begging my lids to flutter, begging my mouth to speak something, anything. I willed myself into wakefulness, I would will myself into telling my family I'm okay.

"Come on, Kara…" I heard Lydia say softly, almost so quietly that I nearly missed it altogether.

'I'm fine!' Please, please, please!

"She'll be fine." Allison said, though I could almost swear she was talking to herself rather than anyone else.

'Allison! Lydia! Can't you see? Can't you tell that I'm alright? Please!' And suddenly, the most miraculous thing happened, and Lydia's voice cut through the growing silence.

"Her hand just moved." The air was still, tense, I could feel it from my incapacitated state. I wasn't quite aiming for my hand but it'd have to do. "Kara? Can you hear me?"

I concentrated, holding my breath, or at least that's what it felt like. I heard an incessant beeping from beside me, slowly getting more erratic.

"Her hand moved again," Allison announced. I couldn't feel it, though I could feel a growing warmth stemming from my fingertips.

"Is she awake? Do you think she's okay?" My mom questioned, approaching slowly, as if she was afraid to hear the answer.

"We should call the nurse." My father announced firmly. I heard his fancy Italian shoes hitting the tiled floor, somewhere away from me, followed by a click of a door opening then shutting.

"Kara?" Allison and Lydia kept repeating beside me, I wanted to answer, to open my eyes but I couldn't. The beeping penetrated my thoughts, and I wished it would shut up, but it only seemed to get faster, louder, more annoying with every wish.

"Kara?" A new voice came into the room, and I felt new hands touching my face. They were warm, gentle, soft, small. I remembered this voice, but I wasn't sure where from. It was kind, caring, concerned. Was she the nurse my father called? "Kara, I need you to relax, can you hear me? I need you to relax. Everything is okay. Deep breaths. Your parents and friends are here to make sure you feel safe, you're safe here."

Her voice filled me with a certain warmth, one I couldn't quite describe. It was like honey and hot tea on a harsh winter night. It was a mother's embrace when you had a fever, It was relaxing and comforting. The beeping stated to slow, it quietened down, and stopped piercing my ears. I felt her hands stroke the side of my head, like my mom did when I was sick. Was I sick?

"Good, see? Isn't that more comfortable?" She was right, my head was hurting slightly less and my chest felt at ease, like I had been holding my breath for hours, except I hadn't noticed it was painful to begin with. "Do you think you can open your eyes for me, Kara?"

"No," I groaned to myself, though it sounded much more verbal. Did I finally speak? "I can't, I tried,"

"Yes you can, Kara, look at me." Her voice was more firm now, She responded, which must've meant I actually spoke. My internal queries were satiated, but that wasn't nearly as rewarding as I thought it would be. I felt my hands moving, balling into fists, my toes wiggled, my muscles tensing and relaxing, the steady beat of my heart and flow of my breath.

"What happened?" I grumbled out, my eyes fluttering open and greeting the sight of the frizzy haired nurse I remembered seeing before…before…when was that again?

"You were in a car accident, do you remember?" My mother spoke. I turned my head slightly to look at her, which required more concentration and determination.

"No," I mumbled, looking between faces. The nurse stood back, seemingly satisfied. My parents stood beside one another at the foot of the bed, furrowed brows and wide eyes, and Allison and Lydia stood on my left, with worried yet relieved expressions. Lydia. Lydia was dressed normal. Lydia normal, not regular people normal. She was okay? "Lydia…"

"Yeah? Do you need something? Because I'm totally already shouting a shopping spree." That was so Lydia, I loved it.

"No, I mean, you're okay…" My vision blurred and dropped every now and then, everything looked kind of fuzzy at the moment, except the wild images floating around in my head. I tied to piece things together, I knew something, what was it? It was important…

"I was released a few days ago, you had the accident the day before I got out." Lydia informed.

"How do you feel?" My mother pressed.

"Everything's a little fuzzy…and empty…"

"That's completely normal, you've got a concussion, and it was a pretty bad accident." The nurse spoke, picking up a chart and skimming it over. "You have a broken ankle, a bruised rib, bruises pretty much everywhere else, most significantly on your legs, and a few cuts but none particularly bad. Considering the state of your car and the seriousness of your accident, you should count yourself pretty lucky, miss Moore." She smiled sadly. One of those smiles where they were happy you were okay but upset that you were hurt in the first place.

"Oh…" My eyes cleared up again, and my head starting formulating pictures, there was something on the road, I remember…but something struck me. Someone was missing. "Where's Isaac?"

The mood shifted, the room suddenly still, silence filled with tension, and everyone seemed to be swapping these looks. Why?

"He's not here." My father answered, looking straight at me while everyone else seemed to divert their eyes.

"Where is he?" A bubbling pit started forming in my stomach, before something else seemed to strike my mind.

Isaac, crying, pleading, as his father took him away from me, his hand outstretched for me to reach him but I never could. Was that a dream?

No.

Something else…

I watched from the open window, as his father struck him, pulling him by the hair into some unknown corner of the house. Isaac's creams filled my ears, his pleas echoing in my head. Isaac needed me. That was why I was driving!

"Where's Isaac? I need to see Isaac! Tell me where he is!" My body screamed at me as I pushed myself up, my stomach lurching at the ferocity of my voice, the beeping started becoming more erratic, signifying the rate at which my heart thumped in my chest, my head felt like it was caving in and exploding at the same time, but that didn't matter, not when Isaac was in trouble.

"He's gone!" My father shouted. "And if you see him, you're to tell someone immediately!"

"Shaun, don't!" My mother spoke.

"I need to know if he's okay!"

"You can talk to the Sheriff then!" I froze, watching as my father huffed, before turning on his heel and waltzing out of the room in an attempt to disguise his bubbling fury.

I felt my blood run cold, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps rose on my arms, my body tensed and my muscles cried as it did.

"Please…" I needed to know he was okay, "please…"

"Honey," mom sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes flickering between the nurse and my two friends, who all stood awkwardly in the room awaiting the explanation, and my reaction. "About two nights after your accident, Isaac's father was found murdered in his car. The Police brought in Jackson Whittemore, was that his name, Lydia?" A quick nod followed. "Yes, well, they brought in Jackson as part of their investigation, and he told them that Lahey was…he was hurting Isaac…"

"I'm sorry?" I noticed the nurse out of the corner of my eye keeping watch on my vitals, my heart rate rising as I listened to the recounting.

"Lahey was-"

"Jackson knew?" My mouth dropped, as did the others in the room.

"Honey, did you know?"

"That's why I was driving! I want to drop something…homework, notes, a book, or something, I can't remember, I went to Isaac's to give him it and, 'n', I saw Isaac and his f-father, he was, he was hurting him! My phone wasn't working, or I, or I left it at home, I-I don't know, but I knew I had to do something, so I was driving to the police station!" I hadn't realised I was nearly sobbing as I spoke, the desperate images of Isaac flooding my eyes. "B-but this whole time, this whole time, Jackson knew and, and, he said nothing?"

"Hey, I know it's a really horrible thing what he did, but I think maybe you should take a deep breath and try to calm down a little," Allison spoke, but I wouldn't have any of it. I didn't care if Jackson was Lydia's ex-boyfriend, if he was truly a good person at heart, if they harboured a soft spot for him.

"Isaac was slowly dying to his own father, and Jackson let it happen," I said quietly, but with more spite and hate in every word than I'd ever felt or spoken in my entire life, "so as far as I'm concerned, it's Jackson's fault, too."

The room was stiff and seething, tense and awkward, but I could care less. The most beautiful person in the world was brutalised, and when you have the power to stop something like that, you use it. If you have the ability to make the world a better place, you do exactly that. If you ignore an evil such as that, you're no better than that evil. Jackson was, as far as I was concerned, the worst a person could be.

"In, uh, in any case," mom continued, "Jackson told the Sheriff that Isaac and his father had a falling out that night, an argument if you will, so they put Isaac in a holding cell overnight, only there was this big incident and Isaac got out. He's a fugitive, I'm so sorry, sweetie."

"He didn't do it."

"Honey-"

"It wasn't him." Isaac would never, not in a million years.

"We're going to go," Allison spoke after about five minutes of deathly silence. No one tried to deny my belief, and in that time, the nurse had left, letting me know that if I needed her, she'd come around, before informing me her name was Melissa. Apparently she's Scott McCall's mom. "If you need anything, let us know."

They both hugged me, giving me their best wishes, while mom remained at the foot of the bed.

We didn't speak for minutes, and dad hadn't returned. It didn't matter much, visiting hours were almost over as it was.

"For what it's worth, I believe you." She kissed my forehead, patting my cheek softly before exiting the room with a heartfelt, "I love you."

If I thought I could relax, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Melissa returned with a man dressed in a police uniform, most specifically, the Sheriff himself.

"Hi there, Kara," he smiled, looking tired and sad. I felt pity for him, this was a crazy town and everything happened at once, so he must have had his hands full. "Sorry to bother you while you're trying to relax, but Melissa here informed you woke up a short while ago. I'm Sheriff Stilinski."

"It's okay." I mumbled. I didn't really want to talk to him, but at the same time, he just needed to do his job, much like I had. Melissa excused herself from the room with a quick smile and small wave.

"I'll try to keep this short." I nodded, listening to him take out a pen and notepad, readying to scribble notations. "It's my understanding you're involved with Isaac Lahey, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Is it a close relationship?"

"Yes."

"Has he mentioned much about his family life?"

"Not really."

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

"…yes."

"Such as?" I didn't want to say, but I couldn't hide it. I couldn't further incriminate my boyfriend, especially when he was innocent. However, if I neglected to tell the truth, it could make things worse than they needed to be.

"…he often had bruises and cuts on his bodies, and he has some large scars." I stared at the white blankets covering my legs, how they moved when I fidgeted uncomfortably. "He told me they were from bullies who punched and kicked him around unless he gave them money. I wanted to report them, but he wouldn't let me, said he'd handle it. I trusted him, but I knew that he wasn't telling the whole truth at the very least."

"Did you find out what was really going on?" I nodded, my eyes beginning to sting with tears as I recalled the memories for what felt like the millionth time that day. I didn't think it was physically possible for me to think about it and not cry.

"The day of my accident. My phone wasn't working so I went to report it to you directly."

"That was very brave of you, I'm sorry that things didn't work out better than this though." He seemed genuinely sorry for what had happened, and I believed him, but I felt guilty for it, like I was betraying Isaac as I watched this man feel saddened by the tragedy around him. "If it's worth anything, you were doing the right thing."

"Unlike some, I care about what happens to others."

"You…wouldn't happen to be talking about Jackson, would you?" The Sheriff sighed, taking my refusal to answer as an affirmative. "There are some people in this world who…only want the best for themselves. Anyone else is an obstacle."

"He's a dick." A huff of laughter and a shake of the head, and I took it that he agreed. He scribbled some more things down, mouthing the words in little mumbled whispers almost incomprehensibly. "It wasn't him, he'd never do that."

"Kara, I want to believe that and trust me, I wouldn't exactly blame him if he did do it, but the evidence and motive align, not to mention, he escaped a holding cell. Why would an innocent man run?"

"Because running is easier than facing the consequences, whether you deserve them or not." I was met with a sigh of exhaustion. "Take it from the person who knows him best, Isaac is one of the kindest people I've ever met, he wouldn't ruin everything he has after all this time. He ran because he was sacred, and I don't know what happened in that holding cell or how he got out, but what I am sure of is that you put a teenager who is claustrophobic in a cell with a tiny window if not, no window. He was panicking."

I was met with brief silence before he questioned, "how do you know he's claustrophobic?"

"For one thing, he always sits next to the window in class, and his bed is practically under the window. He likes his air, and space. He avoids the crowded areas during lunch, we always take the stairs instead of the elevator, and he looks around the room every time he enters a new surrounding. When I researched it, I realised he was searching for the exits."

"I see."

"No wonder he ran." He made a quick note in his pad, seeming relatively satisfied with my response.

"Well, uh, if you see him, let someone know. Thank you for your help, Kara. Sorry to have bothered you." He smiled, turning and opening the door, speaking out before he left, "Get well soon."

"Thanks." I whispered quietly to myself, knowing that Sheriff Stilinski was well out of earshot. At least I knew where Stiles got his social skills from.

You know that feeling where you're half asleep, and half awake? That's how I feel. I feel like I'm floating, not in my own body but I can't see anything. I feel as though there's no bed beneath me, nor any ground under my feet. My mind feels separate from the rest of me, and it's rather disorienting. Needless to say, I certainly wasn't expecting to feel warmth in my mind's expanse of space.

A warmth that radiated more than just heat, but light throughout the darkness, meaning throughout nothingness, elatedness of the emotional variety. I felt myself coming back down to Earth, the floating sensation overtaken by the grounding of my back reconnecting with the not entirely comfortable hospital bed.

"Kara," a voice whispered in my ear, soft yet unwavering. It sent shivers down my spine, but they were welcomed shivers. I let my eyes flicker open, blinking at the darkness until my eyes began to adjust. "Hey there, beautiful."

I turned my head toward the sound, my vision searching to identify the unknown. Warmth spread across my body, though this time, I could tell it began from my cheek.

"Hi…" I rasped out, beginning to see features of my company. Curly blondish hair, impeccably straight nose, chiseled jawline, red lips, big blue eyes staring at me with a mixture of emotions. I knew that face, I saw it every time I closed my eyes, every time I fell asleep, every time I was left alone to my own thoughts, I saw that face loving me, I saw it crying, I saw it bleeding, I saw it screaming for my help. But here, it loved me, it looked at me with so much love, it cared for me, it worried for me. I knew this face all to well. "Isaac?"

"Looks like there's no memory loss." I heard the chuckle in his soft voice. "How're you holding up? I heard what happened, and, well, I'm sorry you had to see that…"

"I'm…I'm fine, but, you, you're…" I hesitated, not really sure of what I should say. The last time I saw him, he was being beaten by his own father, his supposed caretaker. Instead, I settled with the one thing I wanted to know the answer to: "Are you okay?"

He smiled, his fingers still rubbing my cheek gently, "I'm fine, mostly. It's a little scary, to be honest, like, it's not how I pictured my life but I'm hiding out with a…friend…kind of."

"That's good then, as long as you're sure no one will find you." He raised his eyebrows, and his mouth dropped open slightly. "I know you didn't do it, Isaac. I don't want them even holding you for something that wasn't your fault."

"I don't care if they think I did it, as long as you know I didn't." His hand started playing with my hair. We watched silently as some doctors passed by the room, just in case they thought to come inside. "I should probably get going…"

Neither of us wanted him to leave. After days apart, even if I was unconscious for the majority of it, being together for mere minutes was almost more torturous.

"I don't want you to." I brought a hand up to greet his soft skin, watching as his head dipped into my palm. I glided it up behind his neck and pulled him in to me, hoping he would get the picture. He did, joining our lips in soft yet firm reconciliation. Heat pooled throughout my body as I pulled him closer, relishing in his body against mine on the bed. My hand traversed his body for what felt like the first time in forever.

He felt different, stronger almost, more confident perhaps. I chalked it up to the absence of his father.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was I had him back again, loving the way his slow hands travelled along every sliver of skin possible, rubbing my softly through the blankets, knotting in my hair.

"I have to go…" He whispered regretfully. I felt tears flooding my eyes, though instead of it being because I was afraid for Isaac's wellbeing, it was because I knew I had to let him leave. "You're getting out tomorrow, so I'll stop by your room every night to see you, I promise, and everything will be okay soon."

I nodded, trying to ignore the pain ripping through my heart as his warmth left my side. He kissed me again before walking towards the door.

"Wait," I whispered, not expecting him to stop and listen. He turned his head, eyes looking into mine inquisitively. "I-I, um, Isaac, I love you."

His signature lopsided grin appeared on his face as he took in my words, realising that was the first time I had spoken them to him.

"I love you, too, Kara." He slipped out of the room as silent as a mouse, leaving me to savour the last words he left me with. I felt my heart skipping beats, near heard it on the monitor, and with every fibre in my being, I grinned at the door, knowing I'd never forget this moment for as long as I lived.

I loved Isaac Lahey, and more importantly, he actually loved me, too.

Thank you to everyone who read and followed, reviewed, and favourited this story, and especially thanks to amy1997, PeanutCookiesXD, and swanqueen4 for the follows, it was very much appreciated.

Burnthebook, thank you! I hope you love the final just as much!

This was the final chapter! I might make a sequel, probably just as short, or I might write something else entirely. I'm currently writing up a Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier fit, but I'm not sure if it'll ever get to posting stage. I also have an Overwatch one shot that I'll probably get around to posting soon.

Hope you all enjoyed this little story of mine, it's kind of really satisfying to finish something, so if you want anything more, please let me know! Love you all!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.