L is for Lightning
The sky was a strange hue, casting a muted yellow light upon everything. There was the distinct smell of summer rain, and the air almost seemed to crackle with electricity.
"There's a storm coming," Derek said, looking out the window, his arms folded.
"And he's still out there," Scott replied from behind him.
Derek turned. "And you want me to help you find him."
Scott nodded. "We could use your help."
"I'm not-I won't be able to track him. If you haven't noticed, I don't have super smell anymore."
"No, I can't. The air is too…stormy. Or whatever. Something's happening that's masking all but the strongest scents impossible to pick out. You-you can actually track people. Like, even without heightened wolf senses or whatever. Please, Derek."
Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll help you find your idiot friend."
XXX
Stiles untied his hoodie from around his waist and pulled it on. The air was cooling fast, and he could tell there was a storm coming in. Which wouldn't be a problem, except that he'd stepped in a hole and now he was pretty sure his ankle was sprained, because it was swelling really fast and he couldn't put any weight on it without sending shocks of pain up his leg and black spots in front of his vision. Which meant getting out of the woods before the storm started was going to be difficult, if not impossible.
It was then that the sky decided to open a crack and a drizzle started.
"Dammit," he muttered, pulling out his cell phone. Still no signal. Great. Putting his arms around himself, he pressed forward, limping and shivering, toward the edge of the woods and home.
XXX
"I hate my son," the sheriff declared as it started to rain. "I hate him, and if we don't find him in the next half hour I am just going to leave him out here."
"No you don't, and no, you're not," Parrish answered with a small grin as they trudged through the woods.
The sheriff sighed. "Yeah, I know. I oughta invest in one of those tracker anklets they give convicts. I swear, that kid…"
"His heart is in the right place."
"I know that, too," Stilinski said softly. "Scott and Derek are looking in the usual places in town, and then they'll help us look out here."
"We better find him fast. The rain's picking up."
Stilinski looked up at the darkening sky and grunted in agreement. They walked in silence for awhile, when Parrish suddenly stopped.
"Did you hear that?" he hissed.
"Hear what?"
"A branch snapped nearby. I don't think it was one of our guys." He drew his gun and held it out in front of him, turning right in the direction of the apparent sound. The sheriff trailed behind him. Parrish clicked his tongue and nodded to his left, where a figure-a man-was visible through the trees. He crept forward, and when he was close shouted, "Freeze!"
"Whoa!" Stiles whirled around, then let out a cry of pain and crashed to the ground. Parrish and Stilinski rushed forward, Parrish hastily shoving his gun back in the holster.
"Guys, we got him. Repeat, we have found him. Over and out," Sheriff Stilinski said into his radio before reaching down and pulling his son to his feet. "You okay?"
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, just my ankle. I think I sprained it."
Parrish grabbed Stiles' arm and pulled it around his shoulders. "Put your weight on me," he said.
"I can-" the sheriff began.
"No, sir. I got this. I feel kinda bad for pulling my gun on him."
"Eh, don't worry about that. It's certainly not the first time I've had a gun aimed at me. And I'd be surprised if it was the last."
"You do realize how worrying that sounds, right?" the sheriff muttered.
"Yes, well. That's part of the job, Dad. I'm a werewolf groupie/the brains of the pack/the human one. That's just how it goes."
The rain was pouring now, and somewhere far off, a low rumble rolled across the sky. Parrish looked up in time to see a flash a little ways off.
"Shit. We've gotta pick up the pace. You gonna be okay, Stiles?" Stiles nodded, and he and the deputy hobbled along faster.
"Look!" the sheriff called, pointing. "There's the car. Come on, guys."
There was another roll of thunder, much closer this time, and all three of them jumped as a flash hit uncomfortably close. They picked up the pace even more, and reached the car. All three were drenched now, and Stiles was shivering badly. The sheriff yanked open the door and Parrish bent down, depositing Stiles into the back seat. Stilinski got into the driver's seat, and his deputy began to walk around to the other side, when there was a bright white light and a loud sound. When the sheriff could see again, Parrish was out of sight.
"Parrish!" he shouted, getting out of the car again.
"Dad, what are you doing?" Stiles cried, pulling himself up and hopping over.
"Stiles, call 911!" Stilinski commanded, falling to his knees beside his fallen deputy. Parrish was still and pale, and when the sheriff felt for a pulse, there was none. "Dammit." He interlaced his fingers and placed the heels of his hands on Parrish's chest, going on auto-pilot as his training kicked in. He pumped hard, and kept pumping. He felt a rib crack beneath his palm and winced, checking for a pulse again. "Dammit!"
"Dad," Stiles said, his voice choked and shaking. "Dad, I think he's-"
"No!" Sheriff Stilinski shouted, continuing the chest compressions. "Did you call an ambulance?"
"Yeah, they're on their way, but Dad-"
Suddenly, Parrish drew in a shuddery breath, and a small moan slipped through his lips. Stilinski sat back, not caring that the ground was wet, and let out a relieved laugh. He leaned forward again and felt his deputy's pulse. It was fast, a little uneven maybe, but strong.
"He's okay?" Stiles asked.
"I don't know if I'd say that but he's alive. He's alive."
XXX
The paramedics had moved fast, fixing and oxygen mask over Parrish's face and whisking him away in the ambulance before the sheriff had time to ask all the questions that he'd wanted to. He and Stiles had followed behind in the squad car and ended up in the waiting room, where Melissa came by and, upon seeing the state of Stiles' ankle, insisted on x-rays just to be sure. Stilinski was alone now, soaking wet and shivering and nursing a cup of bitter coffee that a nurse had brought him.
Melissa walked into the waiting room, a blanket in her arms. "Here. I thought you could use this," she said, handing it to him.
"Thanks," he said with a small smile, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. "How is he?"
"Which one?"
"Both."
"Stiles has a pretty bad sprain. Bradley is wrapping it up now. He'll probably have to be on crutches for awhile, but he'll be fine. And Parrish…is doing remarkably well. Not a single burn anywhere on his body, and there was no permanent damage to his brain, heart, or lungs. In fact, other than that cracked rib, it's almost like it never happened. I've never seen anything like it. They're going to keep him a day or two for observation, but it looks like he's just fine." She paused, then sat next to the sheriff. "What is he?" she asked quietly.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think any of us know."
Mellissa sighed. "It's a hell of a town we live in."
"That it is."
XXX
Stiles decided that he hated crutches. They made his armpits hurt. He made his way to where his dad sat in the waiting room and settling into the chair next to him. The sat in silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was like they were alone, but they were being alone together, the other's presence alone enough in that moment. Things seemed pretty peaceful, until trouble swept in in the form of Hurricane Lydia.
"What. The hell. Is wrong with you?" she cried. Both Stilinskis looked up at her in astonishment. "Seriously? You didn't think to call and say that you'd found Stiles, and that Jordan is in the hospital?"
"Jordan?" Stiles repeated.
"Yes, Jordan! Jordan Parrish! Do you even know what room he's in?"
"Uh…the doctor said he's come get us when he wakes up," Stiles answered sheepishly.
"You are unbelievable! I already told Scott and Derek that you're fine, by the way. They were out in the woods looking for all of you idiots for over an hour. It's a good thing I thought to call Melissa, or they might still be out there in the rain!"
"Sorry," Stiles and the sheriff said in-sync. Lydia just rolled her eyes.
A doctor with a clipboard in hand walked in. "Are you here for Jordan Parrish?" she asked.
"Yes," the sheriff said, rising from his chair. "Is he okay?"
"Yup! He's awake and ready for visitors. Go on in."
XXX
"So, no lacrosse for awhile, eh?" Scott said, gesturing to Stiles' crutches. They were sitting on his room, Stiles on his bad and Scott on the office chair, twisting back and forth.
"Only for, like, a month. I'll be off the crutches sooner than that though."
"And Parrish? How's he?"
"They're keeping him today and one more night for observation, but he seems to be just fine. Lydia's with him now, looking through the bestiary again to see if they can find anything new."
Scott flicked at something on the floor, avoiding eye contact with his friend. "Hey, man. I'm sorry I wasn't…wasn't out there"
Stiles looked at his friend. "Dude, you don't have to keep watch over me 24/7. I'm responsible for my own shitty decisions, and it's not up to you to always be there when I do. I know you're the alpha and all that, but I'm not-"
"Stiles, stop," Scott said softly. "I don't watch out for you because I'm an alpha-though, you are totally pack-I watch out for you because you're my friend. You're my best friend. And that's what best friends do. They help keep each other from making shitty decisions, and when they do make shitty decisions, they take the blame, too. You've done it for me more times than I can count and I-I just wanna do the same. Is that okay?"
Stiles smiled. "Yeah, Scott. That's okay."
XXX
Parrish was bored of reading. In fact, he was just beginning to nod off-no quick feat in the most uncomfortable hospital bed known to man-when Lydia shook his leg.
"Hm?"
"I think I found something."
XXX
Ooooh! I'm just gonna leave that there…Also, if not in this fic then in future ones, I will be doing more Parrish whump. There is just not enough of that, and he's too cute and innocent to be left unscathed…Let me know what you think! And as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Rock on.
