𝕬𝖓𝖙𝖎-𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖔

𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖞

Stiles drove to the cemetery; he stood over his parent's grave, and he gave up. He fell to the ground sobbing, what did he do to deserve this? It began raining but Stiles yelled, cursing at his parents, cursing at himself.

His breath became uneven, his vision blurred, his eyes were unfocused. He heard footsteps but they felt distant. 

He felt a hand on his back, trying to ground him. "Hey, Stiles. It's me. It's Parrish." The deputy said. Stiles barely heard it. "Stiles, look at me." Parrish tried again; Stiles didn't respond. He was perfectly still except for the shaking of his limbs.

Parrish grabbed Stiles's chin making the teen look at him, the hellhound instantly noticed the blurred and glazed over eyes. "Fuck, you're dissociating." Parrish whispered. Parrish sat down and placed the teenager on his lap and his head on his chest.

Parrish grabbed Stiles's hand and rubbed over the bloody knuckles, "Stiles say three things you can smell." "Rain, grass, fire." Stiles responded, his voice flat. "Three things you can hear."   "The rain, cars, cicadas." "You are doing great Stiles!" The deputy praised.  "Three things you can feel." Parrish said. "You, the wet grass, my clothes." "Three things you can taste." "This afternoon's coffee, cigarettes, the blood from my lip." Stiles responded, his voice not flat anymore. 

Stiles's breathing became even, and his eyes were not blurred. "Thank you." Stiles said sincerely moving out of his big brother's embrace. "No worries." Parrish said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Stiles responded. "I heard what the pack did. I'm sorry." "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything." Stiles said. "But it wasn't fair to you." The deputy responded.

"What are you going to do now?" The deputy asked. "I don't fucking know." Stiles said standing up, using a headstone as support. "Are you going to go to college, you already graduated high school, so why don't you?" "I do want to go to college but I'm fucking broke." 

"I was once in a similar situation." "What did you do?" Stiles asked. "I joined the army; I served for a tour, and they paid my education." Parrish explained. "Do you really think I could do that?"

"You have a lot of skills, Stiles." "I'm still seventeen." "I can pull some strings if that is what you want." Parrish said. "Yes. Please do it." Stiles pleaded. "This is not something to be taken lightly. There is no way back if you do this." "I know, but I think that war, is better than this supernatural war." Stiles responded.

"I'll call the commissioner to make a meeting." Parrish said. "Thank you." "I'll send you the details." "Let me give you my new phone number, only Melissa has this, please don't give this number to anyone, I'm giving it to you because I trust you." Stiles said. 

After that Stiles told Mellisa what he was going to do. She looked proud and sad at the same time. Parrish and Mellisa told him that they wanted regular updates, and after his tour, they wanted to set a meeting in a few towns over to talk, and they would want Stiles's new address. They waved him off as Stiles drove out of town for his meeting in New York with the commissioner. 

The commissioner liked Stiles, he said that he had guts and skill. They tested him. Took him to gun range and Stiles fires six consecutive shots, they were perfect. They asked him if he was injured, he just said his knee was iffy. They tested him psychologically which Stiles would have fail if he didn't completely lied.