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
After what had felt like a lifetime in a coma, Parker had opened his eyes almost four months after being shot. His wounds healed slowly, and after many, many close calls with the gates of heaven and hell- the boy pulled through.
Despite having celebrated a birthday whilst being physically unavailable and subconsciously unaware of how many days had passed since the end of June, Parker had been in a better place. He was aware that he should've died, and that he could potentially be a man of the moon but he'd have time to deal with that when he was conscious. He'd have help too! Peter would be there by his side.
Many people had said that patients who were in comas, whether medically induced or otherwise, could still hear things around them. Feel their touch, feel the atmosphere in the room change as freely as emotions did, and Parker could now say for certain that it was true.
Stiles talked to him about his day, sat with him as he did his homework even if his big brother couldn't respond or help him with anything. He told him about the smallest things that had changed, like how their dad now really liked curly fries just like he did! Stiles also mentioned a new friend called Scott, he was his new best friend aside from Parker and his voice sounded like he was the happiest kid on the planet despite everything that had happened recently.
Or how their dad spent whatever free time he had sat right where Stiles was.
Noah, on the other hand, told Parker how worried he had been after hearing the call over the radio. How he hadn't spent a day missing the sound of his annoying smoothie maker in the morning, how his bedroom looked so lifeless without the mess on the floor— how all of the cups miraculously stayed in the kitchen. Noah didn't blame his son, or let out his anger and irritation of an unconscious man but he let him know that he was struggling.
Andie spent the first few days unable to bring herself to visit, or so Peter had told him. But as the days turned into weeks and the first month had passed, she sat with him for hours. She didn't have much to say, other than she was glad he wasn't dead, but not once did she blame him for the trauma they had both been through. She had become determined to put the bad guy behind bars, and that determination turned into the desire to become an officer of the law. A good one, too. Not one of those corrupt ones Noah worked with who cared more about their bonuses than the people they were serving.
Peter had been in and out, until his visits just ceased. Obviously, no one had told Parker about the horrific events of the Hale fire. The atrocity that had happened by the same hunter who had shot him down like a deer in the woods, their fate would be left to whatever was better than the selfish act of revenge. Many people could take their revenge on that monster, but Parker wouldn't be one.
The only thing Parker wanted to do was wake up and get the hell out of town. The quicker he could be discharged, the better.
So when October 13th rolled around, and Andie's voice screamed at an ungodly banshee like pitch, most of the doctors and nurses knew the inevitable had happened.
