Isaac Lahey Imagines

All We Need Is A Signature

Isaac ran into the hospital, following the paramedics pushing his wife on a gurney. It had all happened so fast, one second they were on the road, the next they weren't. She had been in and out of consciousness since the crash, he was terrified about what could happen to his wife and their unborn child. He watched as she was rushed into the emergency room then swiftly taken to the operating room. He wanted to follow her, he wanted to be by her side but Melissa assured him that everything would be fine and offered to join the surgical team to put his mind at ease. As she ran down the hall another nurse led Isaac to a small waiting area. It was empty so he assumed that she was the only one currently in surgery and that certainly made him feel better though he didn't know why. He sat in silence for a moment before taking out his phone to make a call.

The phone rang twice before Scott answered it.

"Hey Isaac, what's up? Where are you guys?" Isaac held his breath and closed his eyes he wasn't sure he could say the words without going out of his mind. "Isaac? Man, are you there?"

"There was an accident." The line went silent neither of the men knowing what to say, how to process the information.

"We'll be right there." The line went dead and Isaac began to twirl the phone around in his hand as he stared into space. He wasn't sure how much time passed but soon the room was filled with anxious heartbeats. No one said anything, just took a seat and waited. They waited and waited and waited. Throughout their wait period no one spoke, not even Stiles. Then through the silence broke a tune, a lullaby, the sound they played whenever a baby was born. At the sound Isaac broke his stare with the wall and looked around the room at all his friend's, looking at him with a hopeful smile on each of their faces. For a moment Isaac wondered if it was his baby or if a different life, an existence completely unknown to him, was beginning the same time as his was falling apart. He smiled at the thought of his baby girl coming into the world, that he might get to hold her soon, that this nightmare would all be over soon.

His wishful thinking however was short lived. A cough at the door caused the entire group to turn and find a doctor looking at them all, inspecting each one of them as if searching of someone.

"Mr. Lahey?" Isaac stood up, stuffing his phone into his pocket then rubbing his sweaty hands off on his jeans.

"That's me." The doctor gave him an indecipherable look, and Isaac tried his best to ignore his other sense.

"Will you come with me please? We need to speak privately."

"It's okay, we are all friends, they would like to know how Y/N's doing too." The doctor looked around the room again before sighing and continuing on with his reasoning for being there in the first place.

"We had to preform an emergency C-section on your wife. Your daughter is doing well and is currently having a few tests done to make sure she is completely healthy."

"That's great news, how about Y/N? When can we see her?"

"As for your wife, there were complications." Isaac's mouth dropped and he fell back into a chair. "We have put her on life support, but there is nothing more we can do for her, I'm sorry. All we need is a signature from you, her health care proxy, to allow us to remove her from life support and let her die peacefully." The man held out a clip board and a pen to Isaac.

"Now?" The doctor looked at him as if he were a foolish child.

"Now would be preferable, yes." Isaac stared at the man, he spoke as if there were no feelings in his body, he looked around at his friends, each of them looking at him with sad eyes.

"I can't. I'm not ready, I haven't even had a chance to say goodbye yet." The doctor sighed as if he were inconvenienced by Isaac's decision.

"Fine then, I'll have someone come show you to her room." He walked away, down a hall, muttering about something and Isaac swore he heard his own name muttered in vain. Everyone sat around the room, each in their own state of disbelief.