The second the explosion of bullets rang from the gun, Lydia dropped to the ground with Stiles in the sheriff's office.
She could barely make out the sounds of the scuffle over the pounding heartbeat in her ears. Another shot and another of her screams echoed through the station while a grunt followed it from the doorway of the office. Lydia's attention whipped to the sound and saw the sheriff curled in on himself against the frame. Stiles, struggling to drag his father away from further harm, gripped his uninjured arm.
Lydia crawled to them while trying to calm her breathing. She reached the pair and clutched Stiles' arm as she peered through the doorway. The fight appeared to have ceased as Deputy Haigh lay prone on the ground, his face bloody from the assault of the soot covered man now crouched over him, his chest pulsing with ragged breaths.
"Is that- Parrish?" Sheriff Stilinski's gravely question was stark against the tension in the station.
The man's face jerked in their direction and Lydia gasped in recognition. It seemed to have shocked Parrish into realizing his position and the recent events as he pushed himself off Haigh. From Lydia's distance, she could see a slight shake in his shoulders as he attempted to maintain as much modesty as he could while gathering himself from the floor.
"He tried to kill me. Tied me up in my patrol car and lit it on fire. He tried to kill me." The deputy's voice was winded and rough.
Lydia helped Stiles support the sheriff who was now calling out orders.
"Lock Haigh up for questioning and get Parrish something to cover himself up!"
She and the Stilinski's waded through the flurry of officers in action. She took one last look over her shoulder and watched Parrish, now wrapped in a shock blanket, slowly make his way into the sheriff's office and close the door.
"Are you okay, Dad?" Asked Stiles as they walked toward the sheriff's car.
"It's only my shoulder. I'll be fine." Placated the sheriff.
Lydia wanted to show her concern for Mr. Stilinski, but her thoughts couldn't move past Parrish, and it wasn't just because she had gotten a view of him she had or had not fantasized about after their first encounter.
"Parrish wasn't killed in the fire," muttered Lydia.
"Maybe he did. Maybe we've cracked the mystery of the deputy! He's a zombie!" Snarked Stiles.
"Like a zombie could beat someone up like that without falling apart," She shot back and shook her head. "He's something else. Something - different. And I don't think he even knows what he is. He looked pretty shaken up. Like, past 'I almost died' shaken up."
The three reached the car and the teenagers gently maneuvered Mr. Stilinski inside.
"I think I'll stay back. Make our ever-widening circle of confidence one person bigger," said Lydia.
"About time. Always seemed like he half knew what was going on anyway. Felt bad about never letting him in all the way." Sighed the sheriff as Stiles hurried behind the wheel.
"You should call Scott. Give him a heads up," said Stiles. He started the engine and drove off towards the hospital as Lydia pulled out her phone and turned back for the station.
WIth plans of getting Parrish to Derek's loft in place, Lydia slid her phone into her pocket and knocked on the sheriff's office door. A beat went by without a reply, so she took that as an invitation and slowly opened the door. The man was sitting on the couch, the blanket around his shoulders covering him almost to his knees, while his gaze was lost in the air in front of him. His barely creased brow the only indication that his mind wasn't totally wandering.
Lydia's stomach simultaneously fluttered in nerves and felt pierced by the lost look on his face. They had rarely ever, if ever at all, spoken to each other about something other than dead bodies or soon to be dead bodies. Vaguely flirty quips at crime scenes notwithstanding. He would not go to a practical stranger after a near death experience slash possible miracle.
She remembered her own brush with death; going to sleep a human and waking up as something else. Instead of sitting alone in an office, she was lying alone in a hospital bed. She was alone night after night and day after day with only that devil of a man in her head as the closest link to whatever she was. Everyone called her crazy, even those close to her now. Left by herself to wander onto lifeless bodies in one waking nightmare after the other. The pack was there for her. In a way. But only after she found the victims of the pack's enemies. The long-soughted discovery of what she was coming from the mouth of a supernatural serial killer didn't help. The entire span of her time as an unknowing banshee she has felt, and there are times she still feels, that no one else was there for her. No one else could understand this not knowing.
He needed someone who knew.
"Deputy?"
Her soft voice spurred him out of his trance and brought his eyes to hers.
"Lydia."He shook his head as if to shake out the thoughts that mulled his mind and straightened his back. He still looked out of it, but he seemed to be pulling himself together now that he wasn't alone.
"Do you mind?" She asked pointed to the space next to him on the couch.
"Uh. Yeah, go ahead." He stammered and shuffled as close to the arm opposite her as he could while also attempting to pull the blanket closer around himself.
Lydia bit her lip as they sat in silence, she felt Parrish's gaze on her cheek as she looked over the office searching for the right words to say. Her mind was blank as to how to proceed. He needed someone warm and soft to put him at ease. She couldn't do this. She was forceful and demanding and everything that was the opposite of the comforting type. She always admired that exact softness Allison exuded even while strapped with a quiver and knives.
"Are you okay?" She asked finally facing him, that seemed like the right way to start.
"Honestly? I don't know. I don't -" Parrish shook his head while his eyes never wavered from hers, "I should be dead right now. I'm pretty freaked out." His eyes were a clear crystal that shone nothing but sincerity and vulnerability. It was like she could breathe again. For whatever reason he trusted her. Lydia could do this.
"Do you still have an open mind?" Lydia looked straight back into his eyes, trying to emote as much confidence and trust through her own gaze as she could.
"Of course. Probably now more than ever." He answered. "Why? Did you - Did you have a vision about this? About what happened to me?"
She quirked a brow and bit back a smile at his belief in her psychic abilities.
"No, but I know someone who might have an idea about how what happened and why you're on the list. So take a shower, get dressed, and let's go. I'll wait for you in the bullpen." She jumped to her feet causing him to crane his neck to keep her gaze.
He gave her a small nod and a deep, "Okay."
Lydia returned her most encouraging smile before turning on her heel and leaving the room in search of the biggest coffee mug in the station.
AN: Marrish is my new obsession, and so I had to write something for them. I have my own theory of what Parrish is and would love to write a thing with it, but we'll see.
Hope you liked it :) Comments are always appreciated