So uh, yeah, this is just an idea that popped into my head. Hope you guys like it.
I OWN NOTHING.
If anyone has any requests, you can PM me or send it in a review.
Allison had lived, and died by the code. Her code.
Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes.
We protect those who cannot protect themselves.
She had followed it in life, and she now followed it in death.
She watched over Lydia. Lydia who, although was no longer human, still had screaming as her only defense. Stiles, she felt, no longer needed protecting. The Nogitsune had left him with the strength that it had used against them. He could protect himself.
Which was why Allison wasn't quite sure what to think when Deputy Parrish entered the Banshees life. Was he friend, or foe?
Unfortunately, death did not reveal the secrets of the universe. Bummer.
So, Allison watched over Lydia as she and the Deputy grew closer. And she watched as their lives entwined themselves together.
Until Allison no longer needed to watch over her.
The first time they met, Allison immediately saw the connection between them. Being dead made you more sensitive to living things.
It didn't help that he was pointing a gun at her friend though.
She watched as they interacted, noting Lydia's casually checking the Deputy out. He seemed weary of her, and was convinced that she was definitely not your average teenage girl. Their was a slight attraction in his eyes, but she respected that he ignored it, seeing that he was dealing with a minor.
It was nice to know that Gentlemen weren't an extinct species yet.
As Lydia found the passage that led to the freezer, Allison (while screaming at Lydia to get out, she didn't want her to have to see what was in that meat locker) saw that he took the lead, and after discovering what was really going on in the Walcott house, his second priority (first being calling for back up) was comforting Lydia. He gave her his jacket as the waited for the Police to arrive, making sure she wasn't too shaken up.
He did seem a bit disturbed at the redheads lack of reaction though, subconsciously recognizing that she too, had seen horrors far beyond what should have been her comprehension.
The first time he rescued her, she was with Stiles. They had been trapped in a room and there was a Bezerker on their tale.
Allison had been screaming at them to leave the building ever since they set foot in it and she was reminded of how useless she was in death. She wished that she could get through to Lydia.
He had bust the door open after hearing their cries for help, and had immediately grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from striking distance.
He had known for a while that there was something strange going on in Beacon Hills, you had to be stupid not to, but it had cracked a piece of his mind, knowing that monsters, the things that hid in the dark, were all real.
It was Lydia who fixed the crack. Whose presence paved over the crevice healing and soothing the fear that had infected his heart like a virus. It was her that purged the terror of what was to come from his system.
The first time Allison got through to Lydia, they were in the Sheriffs office. Allison had invited her to Bardo, so she could finally give her friend the missing puzzle piece and Lydia had accepted without any hesitation whatsoever.
They hadn't know that only her soul could enter the inbetween, and so, to all in the precinct, the girl seemingly collapsed.
As Allison told her friend what she needed to hear, after a heartfelt reunion, Peter, Stiles, Stiles' Dad, and a Mr. Jordan Parrish were all panicking for their friend.
It was Peter who had to remind Parrish to check the girls pulse and to stop freaking out as it was obviously doing her no good.
When she finally woke up, she was tackled into an unexpected hug from the pack as well as the Deputy, before explaining what she had found out, as well as who had told her.
He had looked her in the eyes and declared that she most definitely was psychic.
The first time he heard heard her scream, Allison watched as it all clicked in his head, as the understanding of what Lydia Martin truly was, was filed away into his brain.
It had happened at the school. Someone had been set on fire and upon reaching the scene he watched in a horrific fascination, as something that felt ancient and powerful exploded from her lips for all to hear. The scream made every hair on his body stand on end, sent the utmost terror and the darkest sorrow into the hearts of all those who lived in Beacon Hills. It was a scream that shook the earth and panicked animals. It was devastating.
When she had finish, it was him that took her back to her late grandmothers lake house, at her request. He sat with her as she closed her eyes silently begging for help from anyone who would listen.
He was startled out of his wits when the Tate girl burst through the door, genuine concern in her eyes as she asked Lydia if she was okay. It was a uniquely beautiful sight to behold, as something in the way that Lydia seemed purely touched by the WereCoyote as she fretted over her, almost as if this was the first time she was allowing affection for the strawberry blond.
(Malia explained to him a few years later that she knew Stiles cared for Lydia, and as she cared for the Stilinski boy, she began to care for Lydia, in her own special way.)
The first time he kissed her had been an act of passion. She had been held hostage by a Bogatyr. An ancient shapeshifter of Russian descent. He had attempted to absorb the power of the Nematon, using her as a conductor for it. It was as if he had forgotten that she could still scream and every Supernatural creature in Beacon hills would come running to her aid.
The McCall pack was an immensely respected one, their leader being a true Alpha as well as having a Banshee blessed by the Morrigan with them.
The pack had, of course rescued her, and Parrish, buzzing in relief, had kissed her as if it was going out of fashion. Allison had watched, gobsmacked, as he ravish her mouth with a bruising force, before pulling away for air and tucking her into his chest.
"Took you long enough." Lydia had mumbled into his chest.
The first time they slept together, Allison faded ever so slightly. She wasn't afraid, she realized. It meant things were improving and they Lydia was moving on.
She hadn't watched, but Lydia had given her all the gory details afterwords, as is the norm for all besties.
They had just defeated a pack of Furies, and Lydia had gotten quite scratched up. Parrish had taken her to his apartment, and sat her down on his couch. They had recently discovered that Phoenix's could use their power to heal others, but it could only be done in a rather intimate method. He first kissed her palm, watching it heal at a rate faster that Scott could manage, before he began to trail more kisses up her arm that had been littered with small cuts and bruised. His lips found their way to her shoulder, and by then bother of their eyes had darkened considerably, and Lydia's breathing had become increasingly shallow and fast paced.
His mouth ghosted up to her pulse point, nipping and sucking at it as she moaned in pleasure, spurring him on to continue his ministrations with a rising fervor. He pushed her back onto the couch, as he hovered over her continuing to attack her senses, her inguries vanished and forgotten.
He marked her flesh until he was satisfied, before slowly, teasingly brushing her hair away, as he found her weak spot right between her shoulder and her neck causing her eyes to roll back into her head in ecstasy and her back to arch into him.
As the night plowed on, neither of them noticed that all the bulbs in his apartment shattered and all his furniture became scorched, unable to withstand the heat of a mating Phoenix.
The day they got married was the day Allison finally moved on, her soul ready to be reborn. None of them (sans Peter) could remain dry-eyed. But they were happy that she could finally move on.
Because Lydia now had her own protector.
The day they had their first child, a baby girl by the name of Allison Deaton Parrish, was the day the saw the huntress again, she had the same eyes, and the same dimpled smile that enchanted everyone who saw it.
She was fluent in French.
She became a social worker slash emissary, although she did always have a talent with a bow.
But she still protected people.
Especially those who could not protect themselves.