There used to be a board there. There used to be one with a lines going off of it to nothing, and a big name in the middle. The board was a way of investigation. One that went nowhere. The board used to hold all the bitterness and anger the boy felt, personified in a way that wasn't his power for once.
That board was now gone. Where? He did not know. It was just gone, though. Yet, nothing else of note had been taken. It was just the board.
Ironic then, that he no longer needed it. He already had what he wanted from it. He had a name; a name. But it was the name he had been looking for.
Sure, to get that name he had to drive away the only people who cared about him. But, he saw their faces, he saw how he was blanked. He knew their feelings on him.
In a way then, this board, or the idea the board personified was the only thing he had.
Ward was dead, his friends didn't trust him. He was back in his house.
In a sense, it was like it was when he first moved in.
Except it wasn't. Except things had changed. A lot of things had changed.
The hurt was still there. That wasn't new. But the feeling of righting a wrong; of actually being close enough to do this. To fix this. To make it worth something. The feeling that, for the first time in his life, he was going to do some good with his abilities and do something good.
That was new.
His training was still there though; the paranoia was still there. He knew they'd be looking for him, and they knew where he lived.
Lived, that was the key term, he realised.
He didn't need the board. He had a name, he knew that was enough.
So, he went on a drive. After picking the lock to a new ride of course. This one a muscle car. He adjusted the seat and mirrors; he wanted the boy to die, not himself, after all. And set off.
He knew the cameras would pick up his face. No point hiding it now. Besides, if they were watching, then they'd see what he was doing. Daisy was smart and resourceful. Rebecca knew him. They'd put together his plan pretty quickly.
He returned back to his 'house' with a jerry can.
Opening the door again, he got the work; pouring the can around all the rooms as far as he could.
It took a few different stops at different stations, but he soon had what he wanted, a trail - all be it a messy one - around the house in the rooms.
So, he pulled out his lighter, and then crouched down. The trail was then lit, and the fire shot off like a bullet, weaving its way around the house and following the trail blindly, lighting all in its path.
With that, Aaron got in his new car, and drove away.
To be honest, he didn't really have any names, or places to go. He knew roughly where Francis was. How to get to him was a whole other issue.
His phone rang, almost as if on cue. Looking to it, he saw it was an unknown number. He still had all his SHIELD contacts, and they wouldn't bother with burner phones. This...this was someone else.
He answered it, pulling over to the side of the ride but keeping silent, "Kind of edgy, what you did back there." A female's voice said over the line; he just kept his silence still, "I know you can hear me, I can hear your breathing. And I know that this is the right number, or else I'd be concerned I called the sex line again."

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FanfictionA boy with no name and a past he hates he remembers gets dragged into a world much weirder than the one he is used to. And, in doing so, tries to be a better person. I don't own Agents of SHIELD or Marvel. This is a piece of Fanfiction. OC x No one ...