it's the shame car for me

What You Are

Prompt can be found here.

Lydia called you first when she found out.

Despite Parrish knowing that he was on a deadpool for supernatural creatures, Lydia called you first to tell you what he was. You weren’t sure whether it was because of the relationship with him that you kept from your brother, Derek, or because of Lydia’s genuine concern for your safety. Either way, both topics concerned you when you found out your boyfriend was a phoenix.

“How does that even work?” You wondered in disbelief. The phone trembled in your sweaty palms.

“Don’t ask me,” she replied. “It just came to me when I realized how he lived through that whole burning car situation.”

“How did he live through it?” You pressed eagerly.

Lydia sighed, indirectly shaming you for being so clueless. “A phoenix can be reborn from its own ashes.”

It made sense; you’d been there to see the charred deputy walk into the Sheriff’s station and nearly kill his co-worker. The whole idea made you feel nauseous – if Lydia called to warn you about this, you had reason to worry, right? What if Parrish accidentally hurts you or – or kills you?

You knew right off the bat that Derek would never accept this; any previous hopes you held were shattered the moment you read Jordan Parrish’s name on the deadpool. Derek was strict about who you dated, especially if they were supernatural. Sure, you were a Hale, but you were the only one born human – which Derek made sure to remind you of – and your family was overprotective of that. Rules were enforced on you more than anyone else and your training sessions were much more brutal.

Lydia left it up to you to break the news to Parrish, hoping he’d take it more lightly coming from you. The ride to the Sheriff’s station consisted of rehearsed speeches and spiked nerves. There was a new sense of alarm that made you squirm at the thought of being near Jordan. You knew he’d never hurt you intentionally, but anything could happen and you itched to get this talk over with.

When you entered the station you made no hurry to get to Parrish, paranoid thoughts swimming about your mind –  and then you saw him. He stood tall and broad, muscular arms supporting his weight as he leaned over the Sheriff’s unorganized desk. The two looked to be having a disagreement – Parrish was always stubborn about his work. It was normally endearing to see him act so passionately over something – yet at the moment, his anger was something you’d hoped to avoid.

Quietly approaching the door, you let your knuckles gently tap the window twice. The two men glanced at you with wide, alert eyes. The Sheriff’s face relaxed when he took notice of you, but Parrish must have seen your watery eyes and bouncing, anxious figure.

“Come on in,” Sheriff Stilinski welcomed you, stepping aside as you shuffled into his office. Parrish remained in the same spot, his gaze fixated on your distant and awkward body language.

Parrish tilted his head at you, the corners of his lips pulled downward in a frown. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no – well, maybe.” Both officers exchanged skeptical glances with one another. “Yeah. Y-yes, something’s wrong. I need to talk to you; just you,” you stammered, playing idly with your hands.

“Of course,” Stilinski nodded politely and excused himself.

When the door finally clicked shut, you took a glance at your concerned boyfriend. How were you supposed to tell him what he was and that a part of you feared him?

“Well, what is it?” He stepped forward, his hands meeting with your shoulders. “You can tell me. I want to help.”

You shook your head, eyeing his spotless arms that were once burnt to a crisp. “You’re the one who’s going to need help.”

“What?” His face dropped and his hands moved to cup your cheeks, tilting your chin up to look at him. “What are you talking about?

A shaky, short breath escaped your lips. “Lydia told me what you are. She – she figured it out.”

He watched you expectantly, his lips parted in anticipation.

You closed your eyes, unable to watch his reaction. “You’re a phoenix, Jordan.”

The warmth of his hands left your jaw. Your eyes inched open and you wrapped your arms around yourself, seeing the broken and confused image of your boyfriend. He stood in silence, eyebrows pulled together in thought as he put the puzzle pieces together.

“It makes sense if you really think about it,” you murmured. He blinked, looking at you in your shrunken-back position.

“Does it scare you?” He whispered. His eyes were filled with an immense uncertainty that stirred the anxious feeling in your stomach.

You shrugged, wishing you could shrink back further into yourself. “Kind of,” you swallowed.

His sharp intake of breath sent a cloud of guilt that hung low over your head; guilt over the fact that your fear of your own boyfriend hurt him more than the discovery of what he was. He wiped a hand over his face, his free hand planted on his hip as he turned his back to you.

“Jordan –“ you whispered hesitantly.

His head hung low as he spoke. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I do – I know, I swear. It’s just… What if something happens and you can’t control yourself? We don’t even know how this works.”

“We’ll… Figure that out eventually.”

Slowly, you approached him and place your hand on his tense shoulder. “We will. Lydia will be happy to help you, and so will Scott, and his whole pack. ‎It’s what they do.”

He nodded, shrugging off your hand.

“Jordan -”

“I’m going to do everything I can to understand this, I promise. I don’t want you to be scared of me anymore.”

“Don’t stress over this,” you fretted. “I trust you.”

He pressed a light kiss to your lips and offered a close-mouthed smile.

“Maybe you should leave work early,” you coaxed, “I shouldn’t have sprung this on you in the middle of your shift.”

He exhaled, seeming to pull himself together. “It’s alright. I’ll see you later tonight.”

Parrish sent you off with more reassuring whispers and touches before returning to his work. You were still pretty worried, but perhaps you didn’t have the right to be. Parrish most likely had a lot more on his mind considering the news. It was a big change; he wasn’t who he thought he was and it was obvious that it frightened him.

You chimed a goodbye to the Sheriff as the corners of his tired eyes crinkled and his mouth curved upward. The station was a bit busy and you felt a warm blush on your face whenever someone rushed by you. You always felt out of place here.

When someone bumped into you, you ducked your head and mumbled a sheepish apology. As you tried to leave, their hand clamped around your arm and tugged you back. You felt your heart jump into your throat, your apprehension spiking.

It only escalated when you saw your brother’s pissed off expression.

“Derek!”

if driving fast cars you like, if low bars you like, if old hymns you like, if bare limbs you like, if May West you like or me undressed you like nobody will oppose!

I’m on this lonely petition called “Kurt Should Have Sang Anything Goes” and the only other thing on the petition with me is a hump of trash because that is what I am.