AUTHOR'S NOTE: So knowing Isaac and Lydia were alone for 16 hours and spent time together, I had and wanted to do this. I really wish we'd seen some Lysaac interaction in 3x12. I HATE Allisaac so much and it's annoying that it seems like they're gonna become a thing because I hate Allison and they just make me cringe because they're so random and forced. I just want Scott and Allison together again and hope the time comes soon when they'll get back together, 'cause I can't ship Allison with anyone but Scott and tbh, I only like her when she's with him.

Anyway, this isn't much, but I hope you guys enjoy it. I'm working on another Lysaac fic thanks to the 3B preview ;)

"Lydia, you go with Stiles."

The suggestion resonated within her. First, she glanced at Stiles, giving him a warm and reassuring smile. Second, she glanced at Isaac, this time rather shyly. Deaton had said only someone you had a strong emotional connection with could pull you back, act as an emotional tether. She was Stiles' and, she slowly realized, Isaac was Allison's. That feeling of jealousy appeared again, Allison once more the cause of it. Weeks ago Lydia had been paranoid by Isaac and Allison bonding, but she'd brushed those worries away after they'd had sex. But now she wasn't so sure if that'd been the right move.

But Isaac had just as much right to be jealous, if not more. She'd kissed Stiles and had felt something. The same something she'd felt kissing Isaac for the first time. The hint of butterflies, her heart skipping a beat. She had a connection with both Stiles and Isaac and she cared a great deal about both. She'd always been boy crazy and now that way of life was coming back to bite her in the ass.

"You okay?" Isaac asked Lydia, a couple hours after Allison, Stiles and Scott went under. She'd spent the first hour in the room with the other three, watching Stiles intently. When it was apparent all this wasn't going to take just an hour, she wandered into another room, sitting on the edge of a table and resting her back against the wall.

"I just held one of my closest friends under water, killing him," she said, not looking at Isaac but seeing him settle beside her out of the corner of her eye. She was still jealous, but his presence was a comfort to her.

"What's going on, Lydia?" Isaac asked, reaching his hand out to place over hers, but she jerked her hand away and glanced quickly at him and then looked away. "Why are you mad?" He found it slightly cute, her being mad or jealous, whichever she was. A little bit of both it seemed.

"I'm not mad," she said, a bit childishly, which made Isaac grin. "I'm not mad. I'm just a little jealous, maybe." She finally looked at him, moving her leg so her thigh was resting against Isaac's. "And I might be feeling a little guilty. I kissed Stiles earlier."

He didn't seem to be too upset by this revelation, which relieved Lydia a bit. They hadn't really made the fact that they've been seeing each other a public fact. The only person she openly had a relationship with was Aiden, yet another boy she cared deeply about even if she was reluctant to admit it, to herself and to anyone else. He was the enemy.

"You kissed Stiles. So what?" Isaac finally said. "He's a good guy. I like him. And honestly, if you were to date anyone, I think Stiles would be the best possible choice. I'm not blind, Lydia. I know he likes you. I know he's had a crush on you ever since he was eight." After spending so much time with Scott, Isaac had learned a lot about them all by just standing by and listening. That's what he did. He listened and took every bit of information in, storing it for later use. Being quiet and sometimes invisible was an advantage. He thought that said a lot about Stiles, having a crush on Lydia for so long. He'd seen her with numerous boys, had accepted the fact that she might never see him the way he saw her. "We're in high school, not in some Shakespearean story. We're allowed to see other people." Even if he didn't want to. Lydia was the first girl he'd had a crush on in a long time. She was his first kiss. His first time.

"What about you and Allison?" she asked, studying him. "I've noticed you two growing closer lately," she added, a hint of jealousy in her tone. Everyone always seemed to like her best friend, understandbly so, but it still got to Lydia sometimes. She tried so hard to be the one, but she never was. She felt like the sidekick sometimes, in her own goddamn story. She'd been jealous of Scott and Allison once, wishing for once that a boy would look just as lovingly at her (Lydia) the way Scott looked at Allison. She'd finally gotten her wish all at once: Isaac and Stiles.

Isaac smiled slightly, looking down at their legs touching. He had grown rather close to Allison lately, and he did like her. She was strong, pretty, and intelligent. He understood what Scott saw in her, why he'd fallen in love with her. But as much as he liked Allison, he also cared for Lydia and didn't want her to get hurt. She used to surround herself with so many people who had a negative influence on her, who belittled her and made her feel stupid and worthless. He had as well. That was one of the reasons he was attracted to Lydia. And then he'd met Scott and everything had changed. Everything had changed for both of them. They were now surrounded by people who cared about them. They weren't alone anymore. Being alone was the worst curse imaginable.

"We're friends," he said. "Even if I liked her in that way, I don't – I don't think I could do anything. Not knowing Scott's still in love with her." And it was true. Sometimes he felt guilty for just being around her, sometimes being attracted to her. If he ever did make a move, he'd have to be sure Scott had moved on, maybe met someone else.

Lydia sighed, glancing down and realizing their hands were close together on the table. She moved her hand, pressing the back of her hand against his own, her index and middle fingers hooking as she used the back of her index finger to stroke Isaac's hand. "I care about you, Isaac," she said, slowly running her gaze over him. "I care about everyone in my life – Stiles, Allison, Scott, Cora – but you in particular."

"And I care about you," he said, smiling. He wanted to kiss her just as badly as she wanted to kiss him, but this seemed like such the wrong place and wrong time, considering Stiles, Allison and Scott were 'dead' in the next room. Instead of kissing her, Isaac slipped his arm behind her and pulled her close against him.

Resting her head on his shoulder, Lydia sighed heavily and laced her fingers through Isaac's, gazing at their intertwined hands as she felt him kiss the top of her head. In a way, this was better than a kiss. Guys she'd been with had rarely held her, let alone in such an intimate way. It was true, that when deprived of human contact and affection you felt yourself grow weaker and lonelier, sadder. She loved being held by Isaac, something about his arms bringing her instant relief and gratification.

He rubbed her arm, slowing running his hand up and down before running his fingers through her hair, which she'd let down before he joined her in here. She felt his lips against her forehead, moving closer to him and shifting her body to face his. Lydia placed her hand on his arm, gripping it as she turned her head and looked up at him. Ignoring the fact that this was completely the wrong place and time to do this, they both leaned in at the same time and kissed each other. Isaac slipped his arm around Lydia's waist and pulled her closer, his other hand resting on her thigh. She reached her hand up, cupping the side of his face as she deepened the kiss.

Sighing heavily, Lydia was the one to pull away first after several moments, resting her forehead against his chin. Isaac smiled, wrapping both arms around her as he pulled back to kiss her forehead. "Wrong place and time," he said, and she nodded a silent agreement. Usually she'd be up for finding a closet or some other space to get hot and heavy, but she knew Isaac wasn't fond of small spaces.

"If you two are done doting on each other, feel free to lend your assistance," Deaton said, suddenly appearing in the room, wheeling in a sick puppy sprawled out on the table. He stroked it's soft fur, glancing at Isaac. "He doesn't have much longer, but taking away as much pain as possible..." Deaton trailed off, Isaac nodding knowingly at him.

"What?" Lydia asked, not understanding the gist of their silent communication. She got up nonetheless, holding Isaac's hand as she hopped off the counter and went over to the puppy. It was one of the cutest border collies she'd ever seen, black and white. Her forehead was predominantly white, just enough black outlining her forehead to make the white portion form an imperfect but distinguishable heart. Lydia smiled lovingly at her, bending over to stroke the puppies forehead and flick her nose. The dog licked Lydia's fingertips, her tail wagging ever so slightly at the attention she was getting.

"As werewolves, we can heal easily," Isaac explained, smiling as he watched Lydia with the puppy. "But we can also heal others. It wasn't too long ago I was here with Scott and Dr. Deaton showed me the extent of this..." he shook his head, not sure what word to use for him being a werewolf. "I guess gift."

Stroking the puppy first, Isaac then placed his hand along the puppy's back and soon his veins turned black. The dog didn't seem to be too affected by what was going on, but she did whine slightly and Lydia comforted her by stroking her tiny paw. She looked up at Isaac, seeing his blackened veins and then she looked at his face, deep in concentration. She wondered if it hurt him, to take this dog's pain and basically give it to himself. Hearing the puppy whine again, Lydia glanced down and shushed her, pressing a kiss to her head.

When Isaac was finished, he lifted his arm and stared down at it, the blackened veins returning to their normal color. Lydia came to stand in front of him, placing one hand on his arm and closing her other hand over his, pulling his arm toward her so she could look it over. "Did it hurt?" she asked, trailing her fingertips along all the visible veins on his forearm, a bit turned on by them.

"Not too much," he said, shrugging. Deaton had smiled and left them to their own devices again, but had left the puppy with them. Animals always managed to bring two people closer together, helped humans bond and create deeper connections. "I didn't take too much pain away, but sometimes a little can make all the difference," he added, echoing Deaton's words to him those several months back.

Lydia let go of his arm but held his hand between both of hers, holding it against her chest. "You're one of a kind," she said, looking up at him with a smile on her face. "And that's a good thing, Isaac." Isaac chuckled lightly, smiling and gazing at her fondly. She dropped his hand and grabbed a chair, taking a seat next to the table with the puppy on it. Isaac took a seat beside Lydia, leaning his arm against hers as he ran his hand over the puppy's – whose name was Molly – back, feeling the ridge of her spine as he did so. She had her head resting on Lydia's hand, using it as a pillow as Lydia used her other hand to caress her white paw.

"Do you think they'll wake up soon?" she asked after several moments of silence. She was worried about them all, not sure how she'd be handling herself right now if Isaac was the one in the tub. She'd be a nervous wreck, constantly checking on him and never leaving his side.

"I don't know," Isaac said truthfully. "I hope so." He glanced at Lydia, reassuring her with an elbow nudge and then turned his attention back to the puppy.

Lydia gazed at Isaac for several moments, then finally she sighed and leaned over, resting her head against Isaac's shoulder. For now, at least, she had a distraction to keep her from worrying too much and thinking of worst-case scenarios in her head.