Parrish loves working with Sheriff Stilinski. He’s an amazing mentor, a great man, and Parrish trusts him with his life (and has tested that trust on more than one occasion). But there are still some things he knows he shouldn’t share.
Like the fact that the Sheriff’s teenage son is currently developing strong feelings for the brooding, “wanted for murder on multiple occasions” werewolf six years his senior. Like the fact that they’re going to get together officially within the next six months, are going to get married (“mated, Stiles”) four years after that, and have a son (biologically Stiles’) who will want nothing more than to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps in the police department.
…Like the fact that time travel is absolutely real, and Parrish Stilinski-Hale might have made use of it for the opportunity to learn from his grandfather in the days before the heart attack claimed him.
There are some things the Sheriff really doesn’t need to know.
I love this idea. And just to show how much I love it, I wrote a fic for it. Please I hope you guys enjoy!
Deputy Parrish was sat at his desk, typing away at his computer. He was just finishing up on a report that was due before the end of his shift when a pair of perfectly manicured hands slammed the top of his laptop closed. He only had enough time to just remove his own fingers before they were crushed with the strength of a banshee on a mission. He looked up into the eyes of one Lydia Martin, as her green eyes bored into his own, trying to unearth whatever treasure she is trying to find.
The silence is too thick. Parrish pulls at his collar, “Uh… Miss Martin? Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Who are you really?”
Parrish is taken aback, eyes widening as he looks around the office making sure none of his co-workers heard the bombshell of a banshee ask such a ridiculous question.
“I’m the Deputy, Miss Martin, surely you know that?” he smiles, trying to diffuse the situation by joking. A trait he picked up from his father. This only seems to make her angrier, eyes lowering into slits of fury. She leans closer.
“Stop trying to be cute,” she whispers, “I want to know what you are doing here before I scream and make your ears bleed.”
Seeing as how this situation is only flying further out of his hands and into deep shit, he gets up from his desk and gestures for her to follow him into the Sheriff’s office. He’s not there, so it makes the perfect place for a private discussion. He holds the door open for her, chivalry running in the family.
When he shuts the door, she whips around fast enough that the flying tendrils of strawberry blonde hair could cut like knives. She wastes no time in repeating herself:
“Who are you, where do you come from, and why are you here?”
His eyes widen again. “I told you. I’m the Deputy, and I come from somewhere outside the town, a small place kind of like Beacon Hills. I’m here because it seemed like a nice place that I could relax in.” He mutters under his breath “At least that’s what I thought…”
Lydia grits her teeth. “You might think that since I don’t have werewolf hearing that I can’t tell when you’re lying doesn’t mean I don’t know.”
He’s about to ask “Werewolves?” when Lydia pulls her hand up, efficiently silencing him.
“Don’t play dumb,” she orders and he effectively shuts his mouth. “I know you know about werewolves. It’s pretty obvious to about everyone since the Nogitsune, and Stiles told me that his dad talked to you about the young Derek Hale. He was telling Stiles that he mentioned time travel to him, just like he did to Scott and Stiles, and that you had this weird little smile on your face. Well, Stiles found that odd, and usually when that happens he calls me. It struck me as odd too that that was your response. And then I got curious as to why you came here. So I did some digging. And do you know what I found?”
She looks to him, as if expecting an answer. He opens his mouth only to be steamrolled into silence by her continuing.
“Nothing. I found zero information on anything dealing with you, Deputy Parrish. Nothing about your rank in the military. About your family. About your supposed transfer. You’re clean.” She sits down in the Sheriff’s chair at this point. “Now what I want to know is: why?”
Parrish looks at her, calculating in his head what and what he should do. His shoulders sag and he huffs out a breath when he realizes what he has to do. He takes the seat opposite her and starts to twiddle his fingers on his bouncing knee.
“You know I have two dads, Lydia?”
He looks up at her through his lashes, a small smile quirked on his face.
Lydia looks bored. “I don’t see how-“
“I think it’s my turn to talk, Lydia,” he says, leaving no room for argument. She leans back and crosses her arms across her chest.
“Anyway, I have two dads, and they actually met in this town. They really didn’t like each other at first, but after many times around each other they started to like the other. They trusted the other with their life. But it took forever for them to even realize, yet discuss, their feelings with each other. It was only when one of them got into a near-fatal situation that the dam could not be held back any longer and they kissed. It’s pretty romantic…”
He drawls off, letting his story hang on the edge before he plummets into the truth. Lydia is now leading forward in her seat, curious as to who these people are. They sound so familiar.
“…and it also hasn’t happened yet.”
Her eyes burst wide and her jaw settles in its new hanging position as she tries to accept the fact Parrish just threw at her. “So you… you’re from…”
“The future?” he finishes. She nods. He nods.
“And you’re parents?”
To this, Parrish huffs a laugh. “They get married. A couple of years pass by before they decide to have a kid, and ask their dear friend to be the surrogate. They only take DNA from one of my parents as my one dad didn’t want me to suffer through some trait that has been passed through his family for generations. And when the kid is born, they name him Parrish. Even though one of them should realize how terrible it is for a kid to be stuck with a horrible first name.”
And then the puzzle pieces click together in Lydia’s mind. “You’re-“
“Parrish Stilinski-Hale.”
They stare at each other for a long amount of time, just letting the information hang there. Lydia thought she would get all her answers but now has even more questions,
“But how? Time travel-“
“Doesn’t exist?” he quirks a brow, resembling Stiles in a way she now realizes. “It didn’t,” he starts, “until you invented it.”
“Me?” Lydia asks, a small smile on her face because, ‘hell yeah she invented time travel!’
“Yes you,” he supplies. “And you even let me be the first one to use it when I asked if I could come back to spend time with my grandpa before he…”
She’s already out of the chair and giving him a hug, knowing what he intends to say even as he cannot bring himself to utter the words. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch.
“Thanks, mom.”
It’s a whisper, but he knows she heard. She freezes, and looks down at him in wonder, as he looks back up at her and smiles.
“You wouldn’t think I’d backtalk to you if I didn’t have any protection. Banshees got to stick together.”
She hugs him even tighter.
It’s a fic, guys!!
And of course Lydia would be the surrogate, I love it. :)
