This is a one-shot/possible basis for another story about Crow's family.

Crow sulked as he stared out the window of his house. It had been four weeks already; count it, FOUR WEEKS! A month! And his parents still hadn't come home yet.

*Flashback*

"We'll only be gone for a couple weeks, Crow. You'll be fine." his mother hugged him.

"I know, I know, mother. I'm not a baby." Crow sighed. It was true, most of the time he ran the black market with a bunch of other kids, not that he would ever tell his parents that.

"Come on, people! Time's a wastin'!" Crow's uncle called.

Crow tried as hard as he could not to make a face. He had never liked his uncle. He was a dick to Crow whenever he was around and his parents always talked to him all the time. Plus his uncle would convince his parents to come along with him on a trip to see some archeological find and the three of them would be gone for weeks. Crow was never allowed to come along because 'he wouldn't be interested' and would 'get bored quickly'. Crow LOVED archeology and ancient relics! That was one of the reasons he started the black market, to acquire and sell valuable artifacts.

"Coming, brother!" his mother laughed. "Be a good boy, Crow. There's money in the cookie jar if you need anything. We'll bring back pictures."

"Alright." Crow replied.

"See you in a few weeks, sport!" his father laughed. He ruffled Crow's hair and he and his wife left dragging their heavy suitcases behind him. Crow heard the door slam and he was left alone.

*Flashback end*

…...

Five weeks:

Crow was getting worried by now. Why weren't his parents home yet? This was the longest they had ever been gone. They would've at least written a letter. Maybe they got caught in some bad weather. Or had something else happened?

…...

Six weeks:

"Hey, Badger?"

"Yeah, Crow?"

"Can you check to see if my dad has been keeping up with his business partners? Even when he's away on a trip, he still publishes papers and sends them pictures of the archeological relics he finds." Crow requested.

"Sure, boss. I'll help any way I can." Badger replied.

Crow nodded. "Snoop around and try to find out if they've heard from him. Me, I need to get hacking on some email accounts."

It took three days, but Crow eventually found out that his father had recently published a paper on the Maya only a week ago and posted plenty of temple pictures. Crow was relieved that his family was alright. He had also been right about the bad weather, there had been a storm and the ship his family was supposed to come home on was delayed.

…...

Eight weeks:

Crow sighed as he stared out the window of his house. The ship his parents were on had arrived five days ago but they still weren't home. What could be keeping them?

…...

Twelve weeks:

Crow began spending much more time in the black market and with the other Black Ravens. He kept overhearing his dad's partners talking to his father over the phone, but his parents had never come home. He was beginning to develop abandonment issues. Would they ever come back? Yes, they would. They loved him. They would never leave him alone forever.

…...

Fifteen weeks:

Crow clutched his scarf and held it like a security blanket as he sat curled into a fetal position on his bed. He was keeping his ears perked for any sound that could indicate his parents were home but all was silent save for his own breathing. When would they be home?

Will they come home?

…...

Twenty-four weeks:

Crow stuffed his clothes and other possessions into a duffel bag. He wanted to be closer to the marketplace and was going to live in the back room of the Black Ravens' hideout. He could better manage things from there. Of course he would come back to see if his parents were back at regular intervals. As he finished packing and set the bag on the floor, he noticed a picture lying on the floor. He picked it up and stared for a little while. It was a family picture of him and his parents. He slipped it into his pocket, heaved the bag over his back, and walked out the door.

…...

Forty-eight weeks:

Crow creaked open the door to his house. He coughed as the dust that coated the living room made its way into his lungs. They weren't home.

They would never be home again.

His normally indifferent expression fell only to be replaced by tears of agony. He sobbed his soul out as he sank to the floor, heaving heavy breaths. He stayed like that for almost an hour before, sniffling, standing up.

He went to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a matchbook. He lit a match and pulled out the small picture he had been keeping with him all this time. He set the aflame tip of the match on the photo and set it in the fireplace.

As he watched his own and his parents' smiling faces blackening and shriveling up, he thought, 'They abandoned me. They're alive and healthy and they never came home to their son who was waiting for them. Not even a letter or a phone call. I've waited for an entire year. But they won't be coming back.

They don't care about me.

He shook his head, 'I should've come to this conclusion months ago. I was deluding myself, I see that now.' He stood up and opened the front door. 'It's time to go home to my real family, the Black Ravens. They've been there for me and I've been there for them. And we would never abandon each other.' With one last look at his old house, he slammed the door and walked out.