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Things had been getting worse for a while now. They weren’t talking like they used to- none of them. Her and Stiles used to go on mildly comical “life or death adventures,” as he called them. While those had never been fun per se, especially when they often became near death experiences, the two of them had worked well together. And really, once Stiles had gotten over his so-called “life-long obsession” with her, they had made an even better team.
That wasn’t the case anymore. When they had gone to search for the Nemeton together, and when had that even been- a month ago now? She could sense that something was different, off, with him, and she didn’t need to be a Banshee to see it.
She didn’t need to be a Banshee, or a “psychic” to see that. She chuckled at the word, at what Parrish had used to call her before he knew the truth.
Parrish. No- Jordan.
Lydia couldn’t help but think of him as she stared at her ceiling night after night. Her pack was falling apart, teenagers were dying, and they were going up against an almost unknown, inhuman enemy, and yet the thing that often caught her attention above it all was the almost too naive, always wanting to do the right thing, Deputy Jordan Parrish. She could never tell if she wanted to scold herself or laugh out loud at the morbid absurdity of it.
Her best friend had been dead for a year, and all of the others were on the same road to ruin- well that’s what it felt like anyway- and yet here she was, thinking about Deputy Parrish. Maybe it was easier to focus on the mystery of Jordan Parrish because it was simpler, something she could actually do.
Lydia knew she couldn’t fight the Dread Doctors, but she could open a book, read some Ancient Latin, and figure out exactly what sort of supernatural creature the deputy was.
She sighed.
It’s a good thing AP Bio came easy to her because Jordan Parrish was far more interesting than the mitochondria. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to center her thoughts on something, anything, that wasn’t related to the supernatural.
Her life used to be so much easier. Then again, downplaying her intelligence to a quite frankly ridiculous degree, dating a jock with a bad attitude, and being hyper focused on being a winner had never felt all that rewarding either.
It was strange to think about Jackson now- to think about the kind of girl she had been with him. There had been a point where being his girlfriend had seemed like one of the most important things in her life. He was a winner, and she needed to be a winner too. He never really knew her though, she had never let him. She supposed that was probably true of him too. God, she really had played her role as the lacrosse team captain’s girlfriend oh so well. Sometimes she felt like an idiot for who she had been back then.
Somewhere deep down though, she knew she would probably always care for Jackson in some way. Afterall, whatever had happened between them had been enough to free him from being the Kanima.
Ugh. She chastised herself for getting caught up in the past. Nothing good would ever come of it, and she was intimately familiar with that fact. Besides, Lydia had much more pressing matters to attend to, and unfortunately they weren’t her AP Bio homework that she was several weeks ahead on.
She closed her textbook, knowing that if her thoughts had reached Jackson, then there was absolutely no hope for schoolwork tonight. Instead, she abruptly stood from her desk and grabbed her car keys.
She needed to go for a drive. To where, she never knew. That was part of the burden of being a Banshee. She just desperately hoped she wouldn’t be led to another dead body, there had been far too many of those this year.
Lydia never turned the radio on while she drove anymore. It was always too loud, something about the radio waves and being a Banshee, as Stiles had tried to tell her once. Plus, if the radio was always off, it made it far easier to know when she was having a premonition. It also helped with not looking absolutely insane when she had other people in the car. While she had gotten reasonably skilled at feigning a headache as an explanation for any sudden and strange Banshee related behavior, it was better to avoid these scenarios altogether. Afterall, not all of her friends had ties to the supernatural.
Lydia drove for a while in silence, the street lights of Beacon Hills passing her by.
As she drove past the school, she couldn’t help but think of Kira. They hadn’t seen her in a while, not since she may or may not have killed that chimera girl. Lydia thought of Kira often, she had sent a few texts, reminding her that they could always talk. Kira never gave much of a response. Lydia understood though. Lydia probably understood better than most what it was like to not have complete control over your body and mind.
Fucking Peter Hale.
Lydia almost slammed on the breaks out of spite, and in a vain attempt to wipe the thought of Peter from her mind. Lydia really didn’t want to think about him any further. Thankfully, he hadn’t forced his way into her life in a while. Although, the last time she had visited Eichen House with Stiles she had felt Peter’s presence, calling to her. Lydia hated that he had any form of connection to her, she hated that he was an intrusive thought that refused to leave her alone.
The beep of her turn signal snapped her back to the present, along with the sense that she had reached her destination. As she put her car into park she realized that she had arrived at the Sheriff’s Station.
There was only one reason she had to be here.
“Lydia?” A familiar voice called to her. She realized that she had walked into the station without her mind’s permission. She hated how often that happened.
Of course this was why she was here though.
Of course she had come to see him.
“What are you doing here?” Parrish called again, standing from his desk to greet her.
Lydia looked up at the clock, it was well after nine at night. The receptionist and most of the department had left for home long ago, leaving a near empty station with only her and Jordan Parrish to occupy it.
I needed to see you. Lydia thought, but didn’t say. Banshee powers or not, she still had a reputation to maintain.
“Oh-” she decided to play it cool, as if the man in front of her hadn’t begun to consume her every thought, and as if she really didn’t mind at all. The only thing she did mind was not knowing if it was because the Banshee in her was drawn to him or if it was because the human in her was.
Maybe both. She often hazarded a guess.
“I’m weeks ahead on homework-”
“For your one class?” Parrish teased. Lydia liked that he had remembered.
“-Yes, for my one class. Don’t interrupt.” She gave him a look that suggested as such, but she was too close to smiling at him that it held almost no weight. “I remembered you said you were working the late shift tonight, and I thought you might like a little company.”
Is that okay? She had never been one to second guess her judgment, but he completely disarmed her. It was probably because of whatever supernatural entity he happened to be and the fact that she was a Banshee, but sometimes she just wanted to let herself believe that it was because she was a woman with a bit of an interest in a very nice man.
“Well, I’m not sure how good of company I would be right now,” he smiled back at her. “I’m up to my elbows in reports and filing.” Parrish gestured to the mountain of paperwork surrounding him. “It’s the curse of being stuck on desk duty for so long.” He sighed.
“Anything I could help with?” Lydia’s mouth acted faster than her brain. She didn’t want to leave him so soon.
“I wouldn’t want to bother you, Lydia. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
“Oh please, deputy, I could use the distraction.” She put her hands on her hips defiantly. “Besides, you are talking to the girl who learned Ancient Latin for fun while studying for the SATs and the ACTS, all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA. I think I can handle a little bit of multitasking.”
A pause passed between them where they only stared at each other, both of them careful not to let the fondness they felt for the other completely overtake their normally neutral expressions.
“Only if you’re sure,” Parrish finally answered.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” Lydia responded plainly.
“Well I appreciate the company.” He smiled as he handed her a file that was so filled with papers it was almost bursting at the seams.
If Lydia Martin had been anyone else she might have blushed at Parrish’s words. She wasn’t though, and she had long since learned the value of careful neutrality. Instead she simply accepted the file, allowing herself to brush her hand very gently against Parrish’s.
Call it a consolation prize. Call it research. Call it anything but what it is- supernatural or otherwise.
Lydia shook her head. She had work to do, and contemplating the faint burn marks on the back of Parrish’s hand was not part of it. At least not now anyway.
About an hour went by in relative silence before Lydia finally got the courage to ask something that she had been wondering.
“Parrish-”
“Please, Lydia, you can call me Jordan. I think after all we’ve been through together we’ve reached the point where you can use my first name.”
She chuckled softly. “Okay, fine, Jordan-”
He smiled back at her, encouraging her to continue.
“-Why did you come to Beacon Hills? What drew a small town boy from Montana all the way to sunny California?” She shut a filing cabinet with a decided dramatic air as she said it.
“Well, from what the Sheriff told me, there’s something about Beacon Hills that draws supernatural creatures here. Though, he didn’t seem too clear on the details.”
“No-” she stopped herself. “Well, yes obviously, we both know about that, but I mean, you didn’t know the supernatural existed before then. So, when you were packing your bags and telling your mom you were heading west, what did you say when she asked why?”
“Honestly? I just told her I needed a change, I needed something-” Parrish paused, struggling to find the correct word.
“New?” Lydia supplied. It was a rare moment where she wasn’t sure if she was answering the question correctly.
“I guess, but it was more than that.” Parrish set the file he was holding down, and Lydia did the same. She had a feeling he was about to tell her something important, and she didn’t want to miss a word.
“When I joined the army, I had wanted to follow in my old man’s footsteps. I’m the oldest of four siblings, and I just wanted to make my family proud.” He paused to look at her, leaving Lydia to feel almost captivated by his gaze.
As hard as it was to keep looking, as much as she wanted to turn away, Lydia knew that she probably would never be able to when it came to Jordan. She didn’t know how or why yet, but there was something drawing them together, and she so desperately didn’t want to break that connection.
“We didn’t have much money growing up-” Parrish continued, “-and I thought that it was the right thing to do. Now- well, I don’t regret it, but the things I saw over there- it changes a man. Seeing your best friend die-”
Lydia winced in pain as memories of Allison surfaced, it never hurt any less. She wasn’t sure if this was just another thing that drew her and Parrish together or if this was just a horrible, morose part of their lives that they could share with one another. Maybe both, being a harbinger of death as she was.
“-Anyway, when I came back, all anyone wanted to talk about was “Jordan the war hero”. I couldn’t take it- the fear that kept me up at night, the anxiety. It was too much, being home, being constantly reminded of it, and of who I used to be-” he trailed off.
Not wanting to say anything, and before she lost her nerve, Lydia placed her hand on Parrish’s. He offered her a very quick smile before he resumed speaking.
“I just needed something different. I needed to be someone different.”
He looked at her. It was such an intense gaze, and Lydia wasn’t sure how long they held it for. She felt a little something of herself in his story, and it caused her to feel that much more of a pull towards the man in front of her. Though she could never truly articulate all of the myriad of reasons why- those both supernatural and those completely, utterly human.
“So when I heard about Beacon Hills needing another deputy, I didn’t hesitate to pack my bags and ship out. And here I am.”
“And here you are-” Lydia repeated. She felt almost breathless as he reached the end of his story. “Jordan Parrish,” she began with the utmost sincerity in her voice, “You truly are one of a kind.”
“You’re just saying that because you have no idea what I am.” His voice was teasing, but there was also a sadness there. It was one that Lydia was intimately familiar with because for a long time, she had no idea what she was either. It was horrifying, all of those bizarre things happening to her, all of those things that she didn’t even remember doing.
“Now Jordan, that only has something to do with it,” she teased, not wanting to voice the depths of emotion she truly felt.
Lydia was about to add something else when her phone started ringing. She let it go on for a minute, uncertain if it was real or a call for the Banshee.
“Are you going to get that?” Parrish asked politely, confirming that there really was a call for her to answer.
She nodded and picked up the phone, her reverie only ending when she heard her mom’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Lydia Martin, I know you are a responsible girl, but it is well past midnight, where on earth are you? There are too many teenagers turning up dead for me to feel comfortable with you being out by yourself right now!”
Lydia winced. Had it really gotten so late?
“I’m sorry mom, I’ll be home shortly.” Lydia didn’t add where she was. She wanted to keep what her and Parrish had between the two of them, at least for now anyway.
“Good! Don’t make your poor mother worry more than she already does.”
Lydia sighed as she hung up the call. She really didn’t want to leave Jordan, but she knew she would see him again soon.
“I have to go,” Lydia told him softly, her smile filled with regret and perhaps a bit of longing.
“Well you know where to find me,” he easily returned her smile, bidding her farewell for now.
It was only as she turned to leave that Lydia realized she was still holding Jordan’s hand, the emotions she felt about this, about him, were indescribable.
Jordan Parrish, you truly are one of a kind.