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He was aware of the darkness that consumed the city, it was as if it had come to Fergus' aid, to clear the streets and cover him in the blanket of night

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He was aware of the darkness that consumed the city, it was as if it had come to Fergus' aid, to clear the streets and cover him in the blanket of night. The water that had poured onto the ground hours earlier now swept into his clothes, chilling him down to his core.

He didn't care, in fact, he brushed it off like a fly on the wall. The coldness didn't make him shake, it didn't make his teeth chatter or his chin tremble. It didn't make him curl his fingers and blow warm air on them or give him uncomfortable goosebumps.

What made him shake like a leaf during a hurricane were the memories.

He hated crying, he didn't like to cry, he loathed being weak, he was not used to feeling like this. His chest was hollow and someone seemed to keep punching him into his gut over and over again. His head was throbbing like crazy and the blood on the back of his neck had dried a long time ago. Apparently, being shoved into the wall does that to person.

Something tugged at his collar, but Fergus didn't care. He curled up even more if that was possible. Someone pulled at a piece of his wet, ink-black hair as he flinched, swatting the thing away. Startled, he snapped his eyes open after feeling the silky and cool feathers under his touch. The raven let out an unhappy, low grumbling sound as it flapped its midnight wings to gain balance on the ground again. It shook itself, glaring daggers towards Fergus who was slowly pushing himself up.

He groaned, not having noticed how stiff his back had gotten and how much the headache was affecting his vision. “what the fuck do you want, Bruno.” the raven let out an angry, grating sound. As if it was offended. “Yeah, I just named you Bruno, deal with it dumbass.” he hadn't meant to say insults like that, but he was confused and angry. And some random, overly big raven who had been stalking him forever was just the right creature to piss off. It's not like he could understand.

The raven kept answering him, but the teen grimaced, placing both of his thumbs over his closed eyelids. It felt like a bad hangover, and he had never even gotten drunk. No matter how much he had tried. A shuddering breath left his blue lips, a choked sob following soon after.

Fergus hadn't cried for so long, because crying was not something he did when he was sad. Crying was not something men were supposed to do, it wasn't something he did. No, when he was angry or sad, he'd learn another magic trick, or tell Ref to meet him outside and go for some chips and ribs.

But not crying, because it made him feel weak.

He bit his lower lip, holding his breath as he tried to keep the sobs back. He felt so angry for allowing his tears to escape down his cheek. He dug his nails into his palms, not realizing how long and sharp they suddenly were. He held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as every fibre of his body was tense. The dizziness didn't cease, it went so far he nearly made himself fall unconscious. The raven interfered again, flapping his gigantic wings as his black talons kept grabbing the boys hair to get his attention.

Fergus snapped out of it, swatting the mad raven away. He panted heavily, ignoring the warm blood that trickled down his palm.

The midnight black eyes of the raven did not give out any emotion, but it was clear he wanted Fergus to follow him. The empty boy pushed himself up, pulling his hood over his messy hair as he made sure to follow the raven that glided in the air just slightly off the ground and exactly five feet from the boy.

The streets were empty and dark, and it suited the duo just fine.

The raven brought Fergus to an old clock tower. Even though the door to it was securely locked, the bird knew another entrance. As if in trance, the teen kept following him, going up the spiralling stairs until he made it to the very top.

The place was dusty and still.

But it was isolated.

The next few days passed by agonizingly slow. He took time to himself to sort out the swirling, gloomy thoughts. He would sit still for hours, legs crossed, back straight and eyes closed. He would review the memories, relive them in his mind and after that, he'd place them in a box, lock them away and bury them deep in his consciousness. During those dark days Fergus did not drink, did not eat, nor did he sleep.

He didn't feel as though he needed to.

He'd find himself staring out, down on the large city through some lonely cracks on the tower, rocking himself as flashes of his past wanted to suffocate him once again.

Eventually, he managed to sink them. And his mind –even though never silent– calmed down again. He wondered if the Lennons were searching for him, and what had happened with Stark? Was he still alive, or had Axis succeeded with his mission?

Fergus was a mess in the dark, abandoned tower of his own. Tall, sturdy and utterly broken. But if he wanted it or not, he had to heal himself and raise higher than he had ever been.

He had no idea how long it had been, but he was leaning against the railing on top of the clock tower, tapping his finger as his glowing, green eyes stared off into the distance. The sun was setting, the blanket of stars claiming the night as they bushed the sun above the horizon.

The Raven shuffled his feathers beside Fergus, pulling his head in between his wings to keep warm up in the slight breeze. Fergus looked over to Bruno lazily, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He needed new clothes. Homeless or not, he was not going to walk around looking poor, stinky and utterly disgusting. He needed a trim, and... He was going to change his life.

Why should he keep living the way he did before? No one ever tried to help him, no one ever asked him if he was okay. No one ever cared. And he was tired of feelings. He was tired of being pushed around.
Not anymore.

He reached out towards the large raven, sliding two of his fingers down the bird, gently brushing them through the silky feathers. Suddenly it flashed in his mind.

Fergus was going to make his kill list.

Starting with Mr Lennon himself.

***
Slightly insane?
Nah, not Fergus, he's just cute lil bean :)

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