The Love of a Crow - Wesper/Crows Fanfiction/AU

23. Wylan

A/N: Hello, welcome back! I won't keep you long, just hear to wish you a good day/night, wherever you are. Hope you enjoy! :)

  Wylan was flying. So why did it feel more like dying?

Air tore at his lungs, blood pounded and beat at his skull, his legs groaned in agony as Jesper yanked him forward and into the thick of the battle. Men and women fell around them, and Wylan nearly screamed as a bullet grazed his cheek, drawing blood. But still Jesper surged forward, dragging a panicking Wylan behind him.

The street seemed to get longer as they ran, the sound of gunshots drawing ever-closer. He knew they were being followed from both sides, but whether one of them was Inej he couldn't tell. The streets were zooming by, but still Wylan's thoughts were distracted.

I caused this. They're hunting me. They want me dead, and now they want the Crows dead as well. Now they want Jesper dead.

"Jesper... let... go!" Wylan managed as he gasped for air. Jesper promptly ignored him.

Even when the street changed, even when it seemed they had darted through every alleyway, every secret passage and corner, the gunshots still continued, following them like a pack of dogs. Another bullet whizzed past and Wylan yelped as he felt warm blood flood from a scratch on his thigh. This was all too much; first the bomb at the Exchange, then the moment with Jesper (which he had very much enjoyed!) and now this! Suddenly the pavement seemed very welcoming.

Jesper took one look at him and swore, before ducking into a nearby dead-end alleyway that Wylan hadn't even noticed; he was too busy hyperventilating. He felt Jesper's hands grip his shoulders as he tried to shake him out of his trance.

"Wy? I need you to stay with me, ok? We can get through this, but you need to stay calm."

Wylan almost laughed; how was he supposed to be calm? All of Ketterdam wanted him dead! It wasn't exactly a recipe for a peaceful evening.

"No, no, no, this is all my fault! If I was normal, if Scales didn't want me dead... I've put you all in danger now. Just let me turn myself in, then he'll stop hunting you."

"Never gonna happen, merchling!" Jesper whispered soothingly, wiping a trickle of blood off Wylan's face. "You're one of us now, whether you like it or not!"

Wylan did like it. He liked it very much. In fact, he wouldn't mind staying in the most dangerous part of the city for all eternity if it meant Jesper would keep rubbing his shoulders and stroking his cheek. But he also couldn't watch Jesper die like he had watched his mother. Wylan would die a thousand times before he let that happen.

Desperately he made a dart to leave the alley but Jesper yanked him back harshly, covering Wylan's mouth as he panicked again, about to give away their hiding spot. Wylan's mind was screaming, his whole body shaking as gunshots echoed through the buildings, as bodies of Scales and Dregs alike fell to the ground. All because of him. Why did his existence cause everyone so much pain?

Jesper seemed to read his thoughts. "Wylan, this is not your fault. Scales is a psycho and there is nothing we can do to change that."

"It's not just Scales, is it?" Wylan whisper-shouted as he escaped Jesper's grip. "He wants me dead, Jes. My own father wants me dead! He's set you all up, I should have seen this coming... I don't want to die, Jesper. I made a promise, I promised my mother. I-I promised..."

By now his words had become inaudible, sobs racking his body once again. He hated feeling so weak, hated the fact that he had managed to have a not-so-mid-life crisis in the middle of an assassination. Wylan was also terrified of what Jesper must have been thinking about him, but at that moment he didn't care; he let himself cry into Jesper's chest. Jesper seemed to put his thoughts aside as well, holding Wylan close and stroking his hair until they both felt a strange sense of deja-vu. But whether it was on Kaz's order or he was merely trying to keep his mouth zipped, Wylan was grateful for the boy's presence, even in the midst of a battle.