SIDELINES

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EMERY WAVES GOODBYE to Allison and Lydia as they pull out of her driveway, waiting until their car is down the street before closing the front door to her home. The girl slips off her boots and places them on the shoe rack beside her father's office shoes and drops her book bag on the bench.

She lets out a deep sigh, glancing at the wound on her hand. Allison had wrapped it with an adherent wrap before they left Scott's house. The blood continues to seep through the bandages.

"Emery, is that you?" Her father's voice calls from the kitchen.

"Yeah," she replies. Emery walks down the hall and towards the breakfast bar, leaning her elbows against the edge with a smile. "How was work?"

Adam shrugs lightly, opening the fridge and taking out the carton of orange juice. "It was alright." After pouring himself a glass of the juice and taking a sip, he motions to Emery. "How about you? How was school?"

"It was alright," she says. Then, Emery hesitantly adds, "Isaac's back."

He turns to look at his daughter in an instant. "Really?"—she nods—"I thought, uh, he was a suspect in his dad's murder. What's happening with that?"

"Stiles said Jackson withdrew his statement this morning. So, the Sheriff had to let Isaac go. He isn't a suspect anymore."

"Hm," Adam hums, nodding his chin slowly. Emery stares at him expectantly— her father always has something to say about any situation. She tells him almost everything that happens in her life. Almost everything. "Well, have you talked to him about... you know."

"Not really." Emery twiddles her thumbs nervously, pursing her lips together. "Things are kind of weird between us right now."

Adam clicks his tongue quietly, finishing his cup of juice and soaking the glass in the sink. "Maybe you should try and make things less weird. I mean, you understand why he didn't tell you about his father. Right?" She nods. "So, tell him that. Make sure he knows you aren't mad at him for it or anything. It'll help bring him some peace of mind."

Emery wishes it could be that simple. Although Isaac's withholding about his father's abuse put them on edge, the main reason for the strain in their relationship revolves around Isaac being part of Derek's pack (and, at least according to Derek, Emery being part of Scott's pack).

Everything is much more complicated than her father knows.

Emery sighs, "I'll try."

Then, he notices the wrap on her hand. "Hey, what happened there?" He crosses to the breakfast bar, carefully taking hold of his daughter's injury. "Did you cut yourself?"

"Uh, yeah. We got hungry while we were studying, and I was trying to cut us some apples."

"Does your hand look like an apple?"

"Ha—ha," Emery laughs sarcastically, retracting her forearm and picking at the bandages slightly. "Actually, I think I'm gonna go clean it. I don't want it to get infected."

"Alright, just be more careful next time," Adam says in a stern tone.

"Yeah, yeah." She looks around, furrowing her brows at the empty dog bed. "Where's Bear?"

"I think he's up in your room. He's been waiting around all day for you to come home."

Emery smiles, blowing her father a kiss as she exits the kitchen and heads for the stairs leading to the second floor. She finds the door to her bedroom, quietly shutting it behind her. Bear, a regular-sized rottweiler with dark fur, immediately rushes over to her.

"Hi, my love," Emery uses her unharmed hand to massage Bear's face and snout. He paws at her as she points to the cushion near the corner. "Go to your bed."

Bear obeys, calmly walking to his designated spot in her room and lying down. Then Emery shrugs off her jacket and throws it to the pile of other clothes that sits on her floor. She's left in nothing but a black tank top to cover her torso, while a miniskirt and see-through tights hug her thighs and legs.

Emery pushes her unkempt hair away from her face, turning to her bathroom and retrieving the first aid kid in the cabinet below the sink. She pries off the tight wrapping done by Allison, tossing it in the trash afterwards. She stares at the cut with dismay, knowing it'll take at least another two weeks to completely heal without getting stitches.

As she takes out the brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean the wound, along with a roll of more adherent wrap, Emery hears a scratch from the window. Her shoulders tense at the noise of the lock to her window clicking, unlatching as the glass slides open. Emery takes hold of the scissors in the first aid kit and strides out of the bathroom. She sighs in relief when she sees Isaac climbing through her window rather ungracefully.

"What the hell are you doing?" Emery asks, her grip on the scissors loosening. She hides her sliced hand behind her back, making sure to keep it out of his line of sight.

Isaac stumbles into the room, his shoes landing on the wooden floors. He straightens his posture and closes the window. Then, he faces Emery. "Hey. What's with the scissors?"

"I thought you were a burglar."

"Do I look like a burglar?"

"With that leather jacket, yes."

Bear leaps up from his position and rushes to Isaac, jumping on his hind legs and clawing at the boy's shirt and jacket for attention. Isaac reaches down to pat him on the head and play with his ears, much to the dog's enjoyment. "Hey, buddy."

"What are you doing here?" Emery questions, watching as Isaac sends Bear back to the corner. "Shouldn't you be with Derek— or Erica and Boyd?"

He shrugs nonchalantly with his fists in his pockets, stepping forward and sitting at the edge of her bed. "Well, Derek's out looking for that... creature thing—"

"Kanima."

"—and Boyd is keeping Erica company while she waits for the paralysis to wear off. Plus, now that I can see again, I thought I'd come over."

He makes this comment in a passive aggressive tone, and Emery rolls her eyes while she leans her spine against the vanity. "I literally told you it was temporary."

"Yeah, well—" Isaac stops mid-sentence, his eyes drifting to the side of Emery's body. She realizes that he's staring at the arm concealed by her torso. His attitude changes within a second, and he asks, "What's that?"

"Nothing."

He gives her an unconvinced look, pushing himself off from the mattress and taking two long strides toward her. Then Isaac gently pulls her forearm out from behind her. Emery looks at his face as he examines the cut on her skin.

"Is this from today?" Isaac pokes it with his index finger, and Emery instinctively snatches her arm out from his grasp. However, he keeps his hold on her wrist firm to prevent her from doing so. "Have you cleaned it?"

"I was going to until somebody decided to climb through my window," Emery jabs a finger at his chest at the word somebody.

Isaac shows a slight smile, clearly amused by his girlfriend's annoyance. He fully clasps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her with him as he walks into the bathroom. Emery parts her lips to speak, only for her jaw to snap shut when Isaac lifts her onto the counter with ease.

"Uh, what are you doing?" she asks, her breath hitching as his hand slides off her waist. He takes the scissors from her and puts them in the kit.

"Cleaning your hand."

"Oh."

Isaac moves her palm under the stream of water running from the tap, and Emery winces at the stinging sensation as the liquid flows in between the split pieces of her skin. Blood mixes into the water as it goes down the drain. Then Isaac flips off the tap and grabs a towel from the rack, gently pressing it against Emery's palm.

The witch observes his actions. His eyes are focused on soaking up the remaining blood with the towel, placing it beside her after he's done. Isaac unscrews the lid to the hydrogen peroxide a moment later, pausing to look at Emery for approval. She grits her teeth with a nod. He pours the alcohol over her hand slowly, and Emery buries her chin in her shoulder to muffle the pained cry that rises in her throat.

"I know, I'm sorry." Isaac says softly, aware of the excruciating burn caused by the fluid. Soon enough, he places the bottle on the counter and caresses her hand with his thumb. The stinging subsides, and then he pulls out a few gauzes and aligns them over the cut before covering them with the adherent wrap.

Everything is muscle memory to Isaac, and Emery can feel her gut wrench at the thought of how many times he'd done this by himself. How many times he'd taken care of his own bruises and cuts with nobody to help him.

Suddenly, Emery blurts, "I'm sorry."

Isaac's brows furrow in confusion at her words, his gaze meeting hers. "Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who just poured alcohol over your hand—"

"No, not that." Emery huffs, causing the boy's motions to pause. Isaac sets her wrist on her knee, still holding it as he looks at her. "I'm sorry for not knowing."

His eyes sadden, and he shakes his head slightly. "You can't blame yourself for that. I didn't tell you for my own reasons. You had nothing to do with it."

"I should've known from all the bruises. You don't get that many from just playing lacrosse. I mean, look at Stiles— he sucks but he's still unscathed."

"Coach keeps him on the bench."

"Not my point." Emery gives him a pointed look, and Isaac cracks a smile. She flickers her gaze down to their hands, pursing her lips. "Is that why you agreed to Derek? Because you wanted to protect yourself from your father?"

Isaac hesitates, seemingly thinking over his response carefully in his mind. He nonchalantly finishes wrapping Emery's wound, separating the bandages from the roll by snipping through the material with the pair of scissors. "Yeah, that's part of it— but honestly I just hoped it would make everything heal faster. No more questions from you or anyone else. Mostly you, though."

Emery hums at his answer, her eyes trained on the detailing of the tiled floors. She hardly notices when Isaac starts to place the contents of the kit back inside, putting the kit away a moment later. Emery doesn't move, her fingers absentmindedly picking at the bandages.

"When did you find out?"

She snaps out of her daze at his inquiry, knitting her eyebrows together. Isaac is slightly leaning the side of his body against the edge of the counter, one of his elbows resting by her thigh. "What do you mean?"

"When did you find out?" he repeats. "How long have you known about all of this?"

Emery makes an O shape with her mouth, briefly shutting it before her lips part to begin her explanation. "I found out a month ago. Remember when I got locked in the school with the others? Like Allison, Stiles, Lydia..." Isaac nods, vividly recalling the night he received a call from his girlfriend and had to sneak out of his house to comfort her. "Well, it was Derek's uncle, Peter. He scratched me, and I guess it messed up my DNA or something. So, now I'm a witch."

"He scratched you?" Isaac echoes, raising his eyebrows slightly as Emery nods. "Where?"

Reluctantly, Emery pushes herself off the counter, her feet landing on the cold tiles as she turns away from Isaac. She bundles the fabric of her tank top between her fingers and lifts it over her stomach— just far enough to reveal the claw marks lining the skin along her lower back. "It happened when we were trying to hide from him. He chased us up the stairs."

A chill runs down Emery's spine when Isaac touches the scars, gently tracing them with his fingertips. She grips her shirt tighter, fighting the urge to squirm at his motions. Then, as if sensing her discomfort, Isaac pulls her shirt down to cover her abdomen and scars. He carefully turns her to face him, lacing their fingers together.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted you to be safe." Then Emery lets out a heavy sigh, "It doesn't matter anymore, though. Derek already got you involved—" She pauses abruptly at the mention of the Alpha, knitting her brows together at the realization. "Why didn't Derek tell you that I'm a witch?"

Isaac gapes slightly at her. "Well, uh— he told me to talk to you." Emery is visibly surprised by this, so he goes on. "After he gave me the bite, Derek said, "You should talk to your girlfriend." And I didn't know what he meant but I couldn't really see or talk to you after... you know."

Emery's frown deepens at his explanation, and she doesn't bother to come up with a response. She remembers how despite knowing of Allison's unawareness of her family's ancestry, Derek hadn't informed her of it. It seems as though Derek waits for them to find out about everything on their own. He wants them to put together the pieces themselves.

However, he'd suggested to Isaac that he should speak with her. Maybe Derek had been trying to imply that Emery is already apart of the supernatural residents of Beacon Hills? She isn't sure.

A silence fills the bathroom as Emery struggles to maintain eye contact with the boy in front of her, instead averting her eyes to their intertwined hands. Isaac looks only at her, and he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"It doesn't change anything, Em," he says against her skin before pulling away. She tilts her chin upwards to meet his gaze. "You know that, right?"

Emery shakes her head, disagreeing with his statement. "Everything's changing, Isaac. You're in Derek's pack now."

"Why does that matter?"

She narrows her eyes at him in disbelief. "Are you being serious?"

Isaac shrugs cluelessly, and Emery stifles a groan of exasperation. He opens and closes his mouth several times before stammering, "Okay, maybe it changes some things but—"

The knock on the bedroom door cuts Isaac's words off, and Adam's voice rings through the walls. "Hey, are you talking to somebody?"

Emery slides one hand out from Isaac's, pulling him with her by the other as she walks out of the bathroom and towards the door. He stays silent as she replies to her father. "No, I'm just watching a movie."

"Oh, okay. I thought I heard somebody else's voice," Adam chuckles. "Alright, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Dad. Love you."

The teenagers listen to his receding footsteps. Isaac absentmindedly fiddles with Emery's hand, drawing circles on her knuckles and rubbing them. She lets out a sigh when the hinges to the door at the end of the hallway creak, the frame shutting a second later. Emery shifts to face her boyfriend again.

"See? If you weren't a fugitive, I wouldn't have lied to my dad just now."

"Technically, I'm not a fugitive anymore." The corners of his lips tug upwards, and Emery fixes him a glare. Then, Isaac breathes out and allows his grin to falter. He brushes Emery's hair out of her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

Emery nods, humming as Isaac continues to caress her jaw. She leans into his touch, reaching up to clasp her fingers over his wrist. "So, you admit things are changing?"

"You're still on this?"

"Until you admit it," Emery smiles at him when he tries not to scoff. "Well?"

Isaac glances past her and reads the clock, clicking his tongue before dropping his hand from her face. "I need to go— Derek'll wonder where I am if I'm not with Erica and Boyd when he gets back."

The witch shakes her head in disappointment while he makes his way toward the window and slides it open. She follows him a moment later, watching as Isaac ducks under the frame and climbs onto the roof. He pauses to turn towards Emery as she steps closer.

"It isn't going to change how I feel about you," Isaac reassures. He places a kiss to her temple, earning another small smile from her. "I'll see you at school, okay?"

"Okay," Emery whispers. Then Isaac begins to scale down the side of the house and she shuts the window once he's out of sight.