Who: Parker and possibly anyone who is at the same camp as her
When: The End plot
Where: A safe place for people during the End plot. A camp, I suppose?
What: Parker is coming apart at the seams, just sitting pensively by herself
Warning: Kind of sad and grim


Parker should have felt safe and comfortable in the camp she was living in, now, but she never felt safe anymore. It always seemed that she was huddled somewhere by herself, sometimes crying and sometimes in a seemingly catatonic state. Eliot had often referred to her as being twenty pounds of crazy in a ten pound bag and that was years ago. Now she was just plain insane.

She had managed to go through the years relatively unscathed, only suffering minor injuries here and there, but she had watched so many bad things happen to the people she cared about.

First, there had been Booth. It was nice to be friends with someone so different from the thieves she usually had as company. She had even harbored a somewhat secret crush for him. Thankfully, he was still alive, but he was doomed nonetheless and it broke Parker’s heart knowing that. He had made a deal with some demon, exchanging his soul for Bela Talbot’s, and all she could picture every time she was around him was a countdown clock marking the seconds til his inevitable demise. It made her tear up slightly just thinking about it.

Then the apocalypse had claimed Eliot. Eliot had been like a big brother to Parker. Gruff, grouchy, and protective just like she had imagined a big brother should be. His death came to be in a way she should have expected. He was a hero and he had perished as a hero. She hated that he couldn’t have just put his own safety first for once. Parker had lost her only blood sibling to an automobile collision and now she was without the only other guy who had ever felt like a brother to her.

Hardison was all she had left of her little family. Though she was pretty far gone, Parker put all of her strength in protecting him. She would rather be torn to shreds by a zombie than see her only remaining loved one die. Normally she would be by his side, watching him with intense vigilance. In battle even more so.

Parker lifted a trembling hand to her mouth and gnawed at her fingertip, a painful habit she had picked up while in Lawrence to deal with her anxieties and all of the unpleasant things she had to live with. Her fingers were raw at their ends, but the discomfort didn’t bother her very much. The pain kept her grounded and able to fight off the things that threatened her existence.