Spadille

19

He blinked, leaning against the car as he waited for Nick to get his wheelchair out of the house.

He breathed in the heavy air of New York, it was unusually foggy. And it had been so long since he had last been outside. He relished the moment, and also treaded it. He relished it because it meant he got out of this horror house and treaded it because it only meant that he was probably going to find himself in jail for the rest of his life. He wasn't naive enough to think they'd come back for him if something went wrong. No, Lennons didn't do that, they left you to stand your ground alone.

Of course, he wasn't alone outside, the twins had been flanking him like guard dogs, which, they probably were.
Fergus was leaning against the black van, his fingers latched onto the red bandana that was tied around his wrist, hidden under the dark coloured coat. He snapped his green eyes, that had specks of gold in them, towards Braxton. He shot him a glare, the blue-eyed twin answering with same. He was smoking, standing a couple of feet from Fergus, making the smoke blow into the dark-haired teens face.

It tickled his nose and scratched his throat, making him sneeze a couple of times. The smell was disgusting, and Fergus loathed the swirling smoke. The pack of cards was safely ducked into his pocket, the weight of it was calming. He didn't like magic tricks, not anymore. But this was what he needed to stay sane, he needed a reminder that a couple of weeks hadn't wiped his past and that he still had a past. Poor, dark and not average, he still had it nevertheless.

Mrs. Lennon strolled towards the van, lifting a duffel bag onto the back seat. It was filled with something heavy, but Fergus just kept his cool, looking as if he was bored out of his mind.

I mean, he was going to kill Tony Stark. Or that what those around him thought.

"Ashton, you'll drive. He'll be out exactly 5 PM, be precise and be on your positions by then," she said, even though she was shorter than the tree teens, she looked at them with such coldness as if she was looking at her servants or subjects instead of her children. Braxton let the burnt-out cigarette fall from his fingers, he stepped on it angrily. "What if Mongrel won't be able to do his part." Almost instinctively, he raised his lip a little, a low growling sound almost leaving his chest. Instead of glaring and saying something spiteful, Fergus freeze, too startled to function on anger.

Mrs. Lennons steel gaze rested on the tall teen, her gaze unfazed by the gold swirling in his green irises. "He will, and if he falters, we believe you will aid him. Good luck." was all she said before turning on her heels and leaving the three boys standing near the van.

Braxton snorted, sitting in the front before slamming the van door with too much force. He didn't even try to hide how agitated he was. "Here, you know what to do. Sir told that you press this, here, see?" Ashton said gently, giving Fergus the small circular object that was to be attached on Tony Starks suit. Mr. Lennon had called it a Sleepzer, his own little invention.