-Sorry for the long wait, I don't even have a proper reason to post this late...
-Slightly OOC-Warren in this Chapter...
-The story has left its liquid state and is now only waiting to be written down, so I'll do my best to post quicker...
It was the last day of his stay in the hospital when he first felt it.
Layla and Will had visited him every day, he was sure they were just bored to death and saw him as a last resort to spend the days, a means to kill time and nothing more, but he hadn't complained about it or asked them to leave. 'That's what you get for spending too much time with other people', he had told himself time after time, but it was no use regretting this now.
He had accepted it as well as the fact that The Commander and Jetstream would now watch over him, or that he would have an ordinary job in the Paper Lantern.
At least he told himself that.
Had he really relented? Surrendered to this 'respectable' life that his mother had always planned for him? He had seen where this kind of lifestyle led, sacrificing one's own dreams for someone else, being used, being trapped in a relationship, a family.
It was nothing a person should long for, it only ended in suffering.
He buried his face in his hands, trying to go back to this feeling of acceptance, but it seemed impossible these days, just as impossible as sleeping without dreaming or thinking about something else than the splinters of these dreams that seemed to invade his mind even when he was awake.
He was sure now that this black haired boy in the desert had messed with his head, messed him up some way. "You'll see, in time", he had said, but Warren couldn't figure out what exactly this guy, Niall, had done or to what end.
He needed to find him. Find him and make him undo whatever he did by pressing his thumb to Warren's forehead.
But how?
He couldn't just leave to search for these guys, he had a job to attend to, he had the Strongholds, who would never agree to such a thing.
As soon as he left the hospital, The Commander and Jetstream went on in their daily routine, leaving him to himself once more, giving him time to think about his plans.
And then he had an idea.
He returned to his apartment, checking the whole place for other people who were at home right now, but found only one person on the lowest floor.
Perfect.
Warren packed his stuff into a large dark blue bag, then opened a window and threw it out onto the roof that was only a few meters away and almost the same height as the opening in his wall.
After this, he piled up some clothes on the floor and took a knife. This would be the hardest part, he hissed as he cut his finger and watched a few drops of blood fall onto the clothes.
Then he cut a streak of hair and lay it under one sleeve, so it wouldn't be blown off to soon. "That should be enough DNA...", Warren murmured as he went into the kitchen and turned on the gas of his cooker.
Exhaling loudly he tried to calm himself as he left the room and waited.
He had noticed that normal fire couldn't touch him while he wrapped flames around himself, now he had to gamble on that to save him. It was a stupidly high risk, but he couldn't go on like that.
"Let's just hope that this will keep them from following me...", he muttered gloomily, sitting on his bed and sniffing, already sensing the unpleasant smell of the gas.
Waiting another few minutes he decided that this would have to do, "Wouldn't want it to be too flashy anyways."
Walking back into the hall and to his pile of clothes and evidence that it was actually him that burned down here, Warren tried to hold his breath as long as he could, knowing that this was a crucial point.
Closing his eyes and gathering power he clenched his teeth, trying not to think about all the risks that he was taking here, then he let go and felt the heat rising...
"Warren?", a cough, bringing him back to reality, breaking his concentration for a split second and resonating inside his head like a warning bell.
He didn't have the time to turn when a single flame emerged from his palm.
He was back on the streets, the riot raging around him, when suddenly a bottle hit him, exploded, setting him and his surrounding on fire, screams reached his ear, he tried to silence them with his willpower but failed.
Then, everything froze, leaving him in an empty space, white and barren.
What had he done?
Sure, he didn't like going back to the life that he led before his mother had died, but doing something stupid like destroying his apartment just to escape? This was not like him.
Maybe he had lost his mind for good now, maybe he hadn't thought about it, maybe he didn't know himself as good as he thought.
"You're pathetic", he noticed, watching as the gas around him caught fire, drawing every bit of oxygen from him, filling his lungs with the same fire that raged on his outside.
This was ridiculous, not only would he die, but now he had also killed Stronghold.
What was that guy doing here in the first place?
Had Layla been with him? Warren hadn't had the time to look around and now his vision was blocked by the angry fire that tried to consume him.
Falling into the darkness the flames died, leaving only the fire that had managed to get hold of the furniture of the kitchen, hall and bedroom, the once nice little flat had turned into a burning hell.
-Was that a cliffhanger? I don't know... maybe .