Beacon Hills High, 2004
Jersey number 24, Parker had been wearing that jersey from day one. Lacrosse hadn't been just a hobby for him, but also a means of escaping the world that was around him.
Oftentimes, he'd find himself feeling suffocated by the immense struggles his father Noah had inadvertently placed upon him since his mothers diagnosis. The boy had been raised to not complain and to take everything on the chin and that was what he did. Day in, day out, he'd sit with his little brother Stiles and work on whatever he needed, always putting his priorities behind anyone else's.
If he wasn't there to make sure Stiles had eaten a good meal with nutrition and substance, the boy would've eaten sandwiches and take outs. Neither of which would help the boys brain progress.
Suddenly, Parker's own ADHD and anxiety were sidelined. But the blue eyed boy didn't care, his outlet was during lunch breaks and free periods.
That was until Coach Finstock saw how good the boy with no training truly was.
"We're gonna win state championship if you carry on the way you are, Park." Coach Finstock called out, placing a heavy hand onto the younger males shoulder.
Coach was a proud man of how far the Stilinski teen had come in such a short amount of time, almost fatherly proud since his own couldn't come to his games. That definitely didn't mean he got any special treatment though, it meant he was placed under more scrutiny; being the Sheriffs son and all.
"Your brother here tonight?" He asked, but Parker just shook his head in response.
Stiles was with their grandparents for a few hours, enough time for Parker to win the game and get changed before Stiles went to see their mom.
"Nah, he's with my grandparents, they're gonna visit my mom whilst the match is on."
Coach hadn't much of an idea about Parker's home life, or anyones life actually- he just knew that things weren't getting any better. Most, if not all, of his teachers knew that too. Now that was a slight excuse for special treatment but the boy never played into it.
As Coach started his usual monologue he had lightly borrowed from a movie, Parker drowned it out- focusing completely on his breathing. Calming himself down was the easy part, but remaining in such way? Now that was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
"Still here old boy?" Peter Hale, Parker's closets friend, called out from the locker room door.
Parker was almost a whole year younger than Peter was but the worry lines and grey hairs spun a whole different story. The nickname had stuck and no matter how hard the Stilinski tried to shake it, it just wouldn't budge. Accepting his fate was easier than arguing with a grumpy wolf man who had more anger issues than Parker had concentration issues.
"Shii-ooot, they went out without me? They do this every damn time."
If Parker had been listening to Coach Finstock for the entire time, he would've known that the team were about it head out onto the field. If Parker lived his life worrying about every single "if, but or maybe", he'd sooner be digging his grave than living his life.
"I'll see you out there, I'll be the one next to your imaginary girlfriend." Peters snide comment didn't go unnoticed by the other, who had equipped himself with a scowl.
Peter feigned a look of hurt, dramatically placing his hand over his chest to emphasise it but had vanished out of the locker room before Parker could cause the fake hurt into something that was real- no matter how fleeting said pain would have been.
All Parker needed to do, was his best. If they lost, it would be such a bummer, but the world wouldn't end.
To be a man who only wanted to win wasn't the type of man Parker wanted to be, the anger and self-hatred that could be caused by that wasn't worth the trouble. Not a whole lot was actually worth the trouble.
"C'mon, Park. get your head in the game." He mumbled to himself before lightly tapping himself on the cheeks to get riled up.
Though not necessarily a game of aggression, there had to be a certain amount of physical and mental strength behind each player. It was a non-violent contact sport where most players go to let out said aggression and to discipline themselves— or where people learn skills they otherwise wouldn't have.
"We can do this, for Stiles."
For Stiles, he repeated in his head before picking up his lacrosse stick and running towards the field.
The clacking of the studs against the concrete floor helped drown out the ever growing booming of the stands. This final meant everything to the people of Beacon Hills, to the students- teachers, parents- you name it.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen! We're all here to watch the Beacon Hills Cyclones play the Doherty Valley Dolphins!" The announcer voiced over the tannoy.
It had been almost four years since the Cyclones had reached any further than the last few games of the playoffs, so the final was a really big deal.
Out of habit, Parker scanned the home fans stand, skimming over Peter, as though he was looking for his dad or brother. It was a nasty habit he had picked up in his sophomore year and just hadn't grown out of yet. They weren't going to be there, and he knew it- but maybe before half time his grandfather would show up for support.
"You ready, Cyclones?!" Coach yelled out, huddling his players up into a circle.
Most of the team tapped their sticks against the ground, boosting up the morale of the players before the whistle had even been blown- but the tactic worked.
Anthony Greenberg; a freshman, glanced up at Parker with his elbow to gain his attention.
"You ready, Captain?"
With a lopsided grin now glued to his face, Parker nodded. He was ready, to win or lose.
Tapping the younger male on the back lightly, all of the team members placed their hands into the centre of the circle, and on three they all yelled 'Cyclones'. Bobby Finstock hadn't seen such a thing create so much ruckus since— since he started coaching.
As the whistle blew and the cyclones raced onto the field, Parker was determining which one of the Dolphins would be the hardest to get past.
No one stood out from the very beginning, but as the first three goals were conceded and the Cyclones struggle to get one into the back of the net it had become clear. Number 16, a taller player- heavier set, had already sent off a player from Parker's team by the force they had been hit with.
So much for a non-violent sport, Parker though to himself before noticing the ball coming into his peripheral vision.
Catching it with ease, he- for a moment, freaked out. If he scored this one, they'd tie. Three-all, and with half a match to go, too. He saw an opening, the goalkeeper took one too many steps forward and their number 16 was too slow setting off.
Parker was close enough to the goal, but far enough away to hear and feel the vibrations of the field to time his shot right.
And he did. Perfectly.
The stands erupted into chaos.
"Parker Stilinski with the goal!"
Parker had no time to celebrate and lose his focus, but he knew that Peter would be doing enough screaming for the two of them.
So, the game continued. Every member of the Cyclones had all recognised who was the Dolphins biggest threat and their weakest link and worked that to their advantage. By half time, Parker and his team were inches away from the best game they had ever played.
12-3, with the home side behind them, the Beacon Hills Cyclones were unstoppable.
"Right, Parker, continue what you're doing because it's working to our favour." Coach called out, once again the team finding themselves in their usual huddled positions surrounding their wacky haired coach and mentor.
Parker nodded, having scored five of those total goals so far, he knew that what he was doing was right and every chance he had to give someone else a goal, he would and had been taking it.
Noah Stilinski had always taught that boy to never be a ball hog, or a sore winner. A man who won for a team alone was not a man worthy of the title.
"Cyclones on three." Coach Finstock shouted, gaining everyone's attention.
"One-"
"Two-"
"Three!"
"Cyclones!"
Once again, as his teammates scattered the field, his eyes scanned the crowd. No sign of any other Stilinski or Gajos, but he almost excepted as much.
"Let's just— win," Parker verbally mumbled to himself before joining everyone else out on the field.
And that is exactly what the Beacon Hills Cyclones did.
Winning with over ten points above their opponents, the screams, shouts and inevitable tears were heard over the sadness and yells from the others.
They had finally done what they had all set out to achieve, ending a successful day with an overall score of 17 to their 4. If Noah had been there, he would've been so proud of his son.
One match, to change the course of history. One match to change the lives of the sophomores and freshman's, a guide for the juniors and a goodbye present from the few seniors on the team.
Creating stepping stones for the future was a difficult task in and of itself, but the seniors on the team- Parker included, took it in with every fibre of their being.
That match may have been Parker's final as the captain of the cyclones, but it wouldn't be the last for the cyclones. It was just another year ending, eagerly awaiting the next one to start.
"Hey, Park! You coming to the Winners Party?"