Isaac Lahey Imagines

Rehearsals (Part Three)

There's a group of teenagers running in the street past your house. Their faces are twisted by something a little more than play, a little less than fear. They run as if the running will save them, and if you were to call out one thing to them, it would be that running never makes anything go away, just pushes it back for a little while.

But you don't call out to them, you stay silent and watch from the door of your house. You can remember what it was like to be that young and that desperate to live, and although growing up may not have taken away your empathy, it has reminded you that not every shout is a matter of life and death. They aren't in danger, they aren't like you. They aren't supernatural.

It's funny to think now that all of that is over. You have moved on from Beacon Hills, you're no longer a high school kid stuck in that same cycle of having to worry about math quizzes and bow and arrow-toting hunters all in one day. Sometimes, you can't decide whether that change is for better or worse, but it's over now.

In a way, you almost thought that you would never truly leave it. Was there ever a chance that Beacon Hills would relinquish its hold on you, let you go out into the world and leave it behind? Some part of you thought you would never truly be more than a high-spirited kid, locked in a battle too fierce to handle and left to burn out once the battles were through.

Luckily, the future wasn't that bleak. You grew up and grew out of the person you were, even without realizing that past you wasn't permanent. Soon, you were laughing over memories of you and the McCall pack in high school- what were you thinking, to do all that? It seemed so right at the time, and it was, but what a life to lead. You don't pity her, the girl you were, but send a silent thought to your old self: it gets better from here on out.

Footsteps cross the hall, and then someone's standing beside you, leaning against the frame of the door as he looks out. Isaac Lahey is older than he was when he first met you, but his blue eyes shine just as bright as the first time you met him.

He smiles, glancing at the kids still running past. "Thinking about the good old days?"

You laugh. "Something like that."

Isaac is quite possibly one of the best parts of growing up. You were terrified at times that you would lose him, that the real test of your relationship wouldn't be risking your lives for each other every other night but what happened when everything settled down, when the only thing waiting for you was each other. Without a near-constant adrenaline rush, what would become of you?

Happiness, as it turned out. You are happier now than you have been in a long time. Finally, you think you have an answer to a question that's been stuck in the back of your head for a long time. What happens to the teenage heroes when they grow up, stop being so reckless and brave? According to the movies, your golden age ended the second you graduated, but you think you beg to differ.

What you have now is good, just as good as that time spent running with the pack in high school. There is no terrible thing to be found in peace, just a knowledge that you're doing better. You do not hate yourself for not fighting anymore, you love that you have the chance to lay down your weapons. Isaac Lahey looked at a talkative young witch in charge of a high school musical and said yes, I could love her. You've learned to trust that he was right.

Isaac reaches a hand out now, wrapping his left hand around yours. He does this often, claiming that it's because he likes being close to you, but you know the way his gaze flickers proudly to the two metal bands around your finger. You've been married not three months, but it feels like the greatest victory you've ever had in your entire life.

You look up from the rings to him, and smile in spite of yourself. No, you may not be in danger anymore, but you're still doing alright for yourself. Isaac loves you like a saint to his icons, every morning holy when it's just you and him. There is no goodness like moving on from fear.