Parker should've died that night and the whole world knew it. He was an innocent bystander, shot through the heart with at least three bullets and somehow, by some Gods miracle, he pulled through.
But everything came at a cost.
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Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, 2004
Four and a half days had passed since Parker had woken up, causing almost everyone a miniature heart attack.
Andie had been coming in every day, whether it was to give Parker a royal bollocking, or the regular chats about nothing and everything in between. Sometimes, she'd eat whatever Parker wanted just to make him jealous, but always - against all of the doctors orders, Parker was given bites of whatever it was that she had brought in.
"Come on, Lazy Bones. You need to do a lap around the ward or your bones will rot." Andie poked and prodded at his arm, her free hand grasping at his.
Parker knew that groaning would only encourage her to poke and prod at him more and rolling over would do just as much. He didn't want to move out of bed, but he wasn't wallowing in self pity. He felt guilty, but he wanted to feel a sense of freedom too... okay, he wanted to wallow in self pity but he didn't want to feel anymore guilty than he already did.
He had, accidentally, overheard a conversation about Peter Hale. The fire, the mass murder— and without being there, he felt like he had a sense of survivors guilt, if he had been there he would've been able to help.
"Please, Park— do it for me?"
"You know, my dad already thinks we're dating and how you want me to do this for you?" Though the slight accusatory tone he had, his voice was light and the bubbles that popped with almost every word made Andie roll her eyes.
"Oh shove off, Park! Just get up and move."
Yet another loud and unforgivable groan, Parker began to throw his legs over the side of the bed. Seconds felt like hours, but Parker was being slow on purpose- he felt completely fine and able to move.
In the back of his mind, he knew that the bite worked— he felt different in every sense of the word. He was well aware of the sounds he could hear and the things he could smell— it was no longer what humans had the ability to do. His tastebuds had remained the same, but he hadn't had much of a chance to test it out.
"I think it's safe to assume that my legs aren't made of beetroot jello anymore."
Andie, and one of the nurses who had come in to check on his vitals, both chuckled at his statement. Neither of dynamic duo had expected another laugh, but it did cause a small smile to etch its way onto Parker's face.
At least someone appreciates my humour, Parker thought before finally putting all of his weight onto his legs, no longer relying on the bed to support him.
