Ghost of You | Derek Hale

nine; drafted

Firehouse 7, Chicago, 2006

After finally being given his navies and official fire helmet, Parker found himself drifting from house to house. Every firefighter always started off that way before finding their forever home- or somewhere they'd call home for a long time but for that to happen...

Well, it took time.

And Parker wasn't exactly one who enjoyed waiting, patience didn't come naturally to him as a boy nor as a newly blessed adult.

Stress balls, rubber bands snapping against his wrist, green teas - none of them worked.

After a little while of trying, he just accepted that he'd be annoyed at the waiting game. If he'd been waiting for four months already, what was another four? Or ten?

"Stilinski!" A voice called out, the voice of his current residential firehouses chief.

Parker had only been at Station 311 for six weeks after being phased out of his last for reasons unknown to him, but he found it quite nice. There were cultures he'd never known before, people he would've never spoken to if not for that opportunity and he ... well, he enjoyed himself there.

He hoped he'd be there for longer, but being called into the bosses office was never a good sign for a Stilinski.

"Yes, Chief?" Parker's voice came out louder than he had expected but the hints of fear were still there.

Losing the friends he had made in this house would break him, and he hated starting out all over again. This house was even a five minute drive from his place! A win, win, in his eyes.

"I think it's time."

An open ended statement, time for what? Time for tea, who were they? The British? Time for drills?

"Stop thinking, kid. It's time for you to take off that candidate shirt and put on a proper 311 shirt." Chief Cardoza said, taking in the boys reaction and noticing that he hadn't actually heard what he had said.

The way Parker's face dropped, he thought he was going to have to find yet another place to be dropped off at in rotation once more- until he heard the claps.

"Wait- what?" Parker finally managed to splutter out, his face tinged a slight shade of pink.

"You're shitting me?!"

That wasn't exactly the phrase that the Chief nor Parker was expecting to come out of his mouth.

After months of being a piece of driftwood in the Chicago River that was the fire service reserve of candidates- all equally desperate to find their docking station and become a permanent fixture to the Chicago system.

It was finally Parker's turn to do what Hanna and Isabel did. Throw a party, celebrating how things always go in a circle.

'Maybe it was worth getting shot,' Parker thought before quickly thinking that nothing was worth getting shot over, but at least he was able to have new experiences in a new city, with new people - people who didn't know about the supernatural...

or about him getting shot.

Chicago, despite all of its negatives (the constant snow, the lack of his family, the cold), meant a fresh start for him and he had needed that. He needed to regain his confidence, the confidence people saw was fake - but people can only fake it for so long.