Allison's breath catches in her throat, and she swears it's because the heat coming out of the bathroom behind him, rather than the fact he's only wearing a towel. She pretends to brush a hair out of her face and pull it back into the bun she's put her wet hair in. She shoves the pile of her father's clothes at Isaac, and turns away, biting on her thumbnail, her eyes staring into the ground. She can bet that if the situation were different he'd smirk and say something, but for now all he says is, "I'll be dressed soon." The bathroom door closes again.
She can't tell how long she's sat in the waiting room, staring down the hallway the nurse has travelled down to give the news, He's stable, and we're moving him into a room. That was an hour ago. She's curled up in a chair, her legs against her chest, and she jumps slightly when Isaac's hand touches her leg. "We've been here for five hours Allison. Are you hungry…?" The words trail off, but he knows eating is the last thing on her mind. She gives him a small smile, as she realizes he's trying to distract her. He takes it as an accomplishment, because it's the first time she's looked at him since they arrived.
"I'm fine, thanks." Is all she says, as she returns to look down the hall, her gaze returns to him for a second as she asks him, "There'll be more news soon right? They should have him in a room by now."
All he can do is nod and be there for her. He looks up in time to see Melissa McCall make her way over to them. "He's fine, sweetie." She says, as Allison bolts into a sitting position in the chair.
"But." Allison says flatly, her eyes dropping to the ground.
"The doctors have fixed his wounds. He has a broken rib, and some scratches." Melissa shifts nervously, and Isaac watches her warily, knowing the next part she wishes she wasn't the messenger for. "We've moved him into a room and he's stable, but the doctor's don't know when he'll wake up." Isaac watches Allison nervously, knowing there's an 'of if he will' in there as well.
Her eyes shift, and then she nods, her voice cracking as she asks, "Can I see him?"
Isaac hates hospitals. Perhaps it was the way the doctors and nurses would always ask him questions he didn't know how to answer when his father was too angry and he had to take Isaac in for casts and stitches. He digs his nails into his palms when anyone looks at him too long as he follows Allison and Melissa down the hall. He nearly backs up in panic as he feels someone grab his hand, but after a moment he realizes it's Allison's hand that slips into his, and he feels as though he's young again, and his mom was beside him telling him to pick out what ice cream to eat on the way home. Allison's fingers squeeze his and he realizes she's holding onto him to keep him calm, and to keep herself from falling apart.
Melissa pushes open a door, and Isaac can feel his panic rise again as he remembers how small the rooms feel to him, but before he has a chance to follow Allison in, Melissa stops him in the hall, and he's all too aware of how cold his hand feels after hers is gone.
"The doctors are unsure whether he'll wake up." Melissa tells him, her voice low as she watches Allison pull a chair up beside her father and slip her fingers in his, holding onto his hand.
"And you're telling me this because…?" Isaac isn't sure what to do with this information, and there's a part of him that knows Allison knows this also. "I can't do anything to fix this. I'm just—" Useless. He wants to say, but instead leaves the sentence hanging in the air.
"She listens to you." Melissa looks at him now, and he presses his lips together in disbelief. Allison does a lot of things, but listening to him, he's sure, isn't one of them. "Allison trusts you, and I'm sure she probably knows that there's a chance he won't wake up."
"What are the odds?" Isaac's watching Allison now, as Melissa shifts beside him uneasily. He can't bear to see Allison hurt anymore, and he almost wishes it were him lying there in the hospital bed instead of Chris Argent. He's sure Allison would hurt less than she did now. But here he was, standing in the hallway, and there she was, sitting beside a father that might never return. So he asks again, his voice a little louder this time, "What are the odds that he'll wake up?"
"Not good." Melissa says as he looks at her, and suddenly he's 10 again and the nurse is putting another cast on his arm and he can see the pity in her eyes as she asks him what color he wants it to be. His eyes shift back to Allison as he hears the echo of his voice from long ago. I want it to be green, like the trees in the forest.
Allison doesn't flinch anymore when Isaac sets his hand on her shoulder, a coffee for her in the other. It's been a week and nothing has changed. It took Isaac three days to tear her away from her father's side to go to school and he drops her off at the hospital until visiting hours are over. Then he takes her to the too empty apartment where he sits across from her at the kitchen table and makes sure she eats. Occasionally he'll stay longer until he's sure she's fallen asleep, and then he slips outside her window and sits in the parking lot all night, making sure she's protected all night.
"We'd better get going." He says softly, and she nods. It's been odd, because instead of Allison supplying all the words and filling the silences, it's Isaac. "Visiting hours are over soon." He stands outside the door where he waits for Allison to say goodbye to her father and promise to be back tomorrow. She meets him in the hall, and he follows her to the car, where she hands her keys to him, and he drives them to the apartment.
Allison unlocks the door, and she wants to scream and cry. It's too empty and too quiet. A daily reminder of her father in the hospital bed, and of how the image of him lying in the bed is imprinted into her mind so much, she can close her eyes and see it. Most nights she doesn't sleep.
Isaac shuts the door behind her, as she continues the routine they've set up and drops her keys on the counter and finds food to warm up for them to eat. They eat in silence, each one unsure of what to say. Finally Isaac finds some words.
"Lydia misses you." His voice sounds too loud in all the silence.
"She sees me everyday."
"You know what I mean." He says, and she does. She goes to all her classes and does all her homework, but it's like she's on autopilot. She's there, but she's so far away. Some days Isaac worries she'll wander too far and she'll never return.
"I'm sure she's fine. She has Aiden." And like that, Isaac feels Allison slipping through his fingers and he mentally scrambles for something to pull her back to him.
"Allison." He watches her worriedly, hoping she hasn't disappeared inside of her mind. "Show me what to do." She looks at him blankly, and he wants to shove the table aside and shake her until she's come back and herself again, but instead he continues, "show me what I have to do to keep you here. You're disappearing again."
She sets her fork down, and he runs his hands through his hair. He's lost her again. She's disappeared and he can't follow her. He doesn't know which is worse: when the darkness took her away, or the fears of her father.
After they're finished eating, he takes care of the dishes and he stands in the doorway of her room, watching her get into bed. He stays for a few minutes longer and as he turns to leave, he hears her speak.
"Isaac." He turns and looks back into the room to see her sitting up in bed and clutching the sheets in her hands. "Please don't go."
He's hesitant to leave, but afraid to move closer to her. The routine has changed, and he's unsure of the unknown. He takes a step into her room. She's come back, but for how long?
"Allison." He breathes.
"I know you'll just stay in the parking lot all night." She says. "Just stay here with me tonight? Please."
He counts the steps until he's at the edge of her bed. 10 steps. "I'll grab some blankets from somewhere—"
"Just come here." She says, and reaches for his hand. He doesn't stop her, afraid of doing something wrong, and watching her leave again.
"Are you sure? I'm fine with sleeping on the floor." He says, the words stumbling out of his mouth.
"I feel safer when you're nearby." She whispers, and the faint light from a nightlight Isaac had found after she woke up screaming shines over the room. She pulls the covers back so he can be next to her, and he feels awkward as he tries to not touch her. It's difficult since her bed is just big enough to fit the both of them.
When they're settled in her bed, Allison's eyes travel over Isaac's face slowly as if she's committing every detail to memory. Her voice is soft as she whispers, "I don't know what to do anymore. What if he never gets better? The darkness is getting worse, Scott and Stiles feel it too."
He brushes a thumb over her cheek, and she realizes she's softly crying. "I'll be here." He says honestly. "Your father will get better, and I'll be your nightlight to protect you from the darkness."
She's sobbing now, and he pulls her closer to him. She recalls him doing the same in the bank vault after her father had sacrificed himself, and she's crying harder. Isaac's fingers run through her hair soothingly, and she buries her head in his chest.
"Show me what to do," Allison says once she's calmed down. "Show me how to be Allison again. I don't know how."
"Okay." He promises her. "I'll help you in any way I can."
It seems that it's all she needs to hear and minutes later Allison's asleep, and Isaac presses his lips to her forehead, sealing the promise that he meant what he said about being her nightlight and guiding her back to herself again.
He falls asleep a few minutes later.
