Malia and Peter were the first to step back through the hospital doors that morning, for the supernaturals' side that is; they were accompanied by Hayden, Jackson and Ethan. Braden, Nolan and Chris Argent, followed shortly after. Some of them seemed to be in need of some patching up, but all of them looked to be wishing for a new ticket to life, a do over, a chance at a boring and normal life.
Melissa didn't wait a second and jumped in Chris's arms for an intense hug, the kind of hug that lasted long enough for the people around to feel uncomfortable, but nobody did feel that... Discomfort, not that the pair would have cared anyways. It was moments like that that reminded them of why they did what they did everyday, a chance to hold their loved ones at the end of the day was enough.
Once they made sure that both of their bodies were warm enough to prove they were very much alive, they released each other, so that Melissa could get back to doing her work, tending to everyone's injuries.
She was cleaning the scratches drawn on Mason's forehead, under the concerned eyes of Corey.
"Where is everyone?" Chris asked as he stood near them.
"Well, Lydia went to look for Stiles, Malia and Peter just got back, Derek is still out there, Scott called and said he was on his way, but I think a meeting or reunion is needed, "Melissa answered without looking away from Mason.
"Scott called me too, but why do you insist on a meeting?" he said.
She paused what she was doing, thinking of her next words, "I don't really know how to put this, you should see for yourself," she said, she ushered him to the closest room, suggesting he should go there.
Chris walked his way there, the first person he laid eyes on when he peeked through the door, was Malia, he couldn't read her expression quite well yet. As he moved forward, he caught sight of Peter, who seemed to share the same expression as his daughter. Curious about what made those two look like they'd seen the dead walk the earth, he advanced further to finally see Deaton, focused and invested in a conversation he was having with someone Chris couldn't see the face of just yet, he could only see their back, "What is going on here?" he asked.
Only for the figure to turn to him and finally reveal her face, "Chris Argent! Long time no see," she said.
"Satomi?" he uttered. While he came to understand Malia and Peter's looks, he still couldn't make sense of what his eyes had before him. He'd been swimming against the tides of the supernatural ocean since his very young years, but never had he encountered such... Situation.
"Well, it is exactly what it looks like," Peter chose that moment to share his thoughts.
"And it is just as crazy as it looks," added Malia right after her father.
****
Parrish was sitting on the pavement near Eichen's entrance, blue and red lights flashing away and colorizing the environment around them under the morning sun. He watched as the bodies of his colleagues were dragged out of that damned building, then put into ambulances headed straight for the morgue.
He stared and stared at the immobile body bags, as though they were just going to open, for his colleagues to leap out of them and tell him it was all a joke or a mistake... Or anything at all. Only, nothing of the sort happened, and he knew damn well nothing would, but still... He let his eyes fall to the ground, somehow that was worse. All the events from the beginning of that night started to play back, over and over in his head.
Did it really need to end in such a way? Or was there something he could have done to change the outcome? Was he just that incompetent, useless? Why were all his efforts so meaningless in the end? Was he ever going to accomplish something with his powers? Or was he just...
"Parrish?" Somehow, Fisher's soft voice broke through to him.
"Please don't ask if I am alright," he said, his eyes still on the floor.
"I wasn't going to," she lied. "I'd pay a fortune to know what is going through your head right now," she added.
"Save your money, it's really not worth it," he said.
"Whatever it is, I hope you're not thinking that any of this is your fault, I hope you're not wondering if there was anything you could have done better or differently, I hope you're not thinking that maybe, if you were faster, things would have been different. You're not seriously thinking about that, are you?"
As usual, Fisher's words were right on the money, she was as perceptive as always, she saw right through him for someone that knew him for only a month or so, "You can't really blame me for having these thoughts now, can you?" he said with a bit more intensity in his tone.
"Blame you? No, not that but... Should I blame myself too? I did rush here without calling you, knowing full well the reputation of this place and... I even dragged a fellow deputy into this..." she said, her voice breaking further as she neared the end of her sentence.
Parrish wasn't one to mince his words at the risk of sounding hypocritical, there was a certain amount of truth to her words, she had a part of responsibility in the events she cited. But then again, he thought they all did, even though his tortured mind wouldn't allow him to lean on that fact, he couldn't think of an adequate response to her concerns right then.
"Jordan..." he felt a touch on his hand, as gentle as the voice that spoke his name, then he heard it again, "Jordan, I am alive, I am... Still alive, which would have never been possible without you and..." she agonized to speak those words, her voice cracked and fell apart the further she pushed it, she sounded in so much pain, but she forced herself to say those words because she felt it was very important for him to hear them, "As sad as I am to lose my colleagues, and I realize how selfish this may come across but, I am happy... To be able to use my lungs still, to be in control of my body, to... To be alive! So, thank you," she finally finished.
He raised his gaze her way, he found that he was right to assume... She was crying, which explained her struggle to talk. He didn't even consider that fact, that her life had depended on him that night as well, he was so focused on his mistakes and what he'd lost that he couldn't even look at the brighter side, for he didn't think there was any at all. He knew of the impact words could have, but never did he think it could be that big, he was in desperate need of a change in perspective, and he didn't even realize it.
He didn't feel like he could save the world yet, but the way there was being paved, very slowly but surely, "No, thank you! Fisher," he said, looking into her tearing eyes.