It's A Hoot (mxm)

Chapter 1

He blinked slowly, feeling tired still. The evenings were always his lazy hours after getting up. He never did adapt to an ordinary schedule. He found it too bothersome. If he wanted to be up at night, then that was when he'd be up.

A loud blaring sound and a bright light emitted from his lap. He looked down at his phone, staring at the incoming call from a number he didn't recognize. He stared at it for a few more seconds then answered it and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Toren Grettly?" A tired voice spoke clearly on the other end.

"This is," he responded in a quiet tone.

"Hello, Toren, I'm with the SPD, I would like to speak to you regarding your adoptive parents."

He went rigid, sitting straighter as the officer gained his rapt attention.

There was a sigh. "There's no easy way to put this, there was a collision. A drunk driver was speeding through the city and ran a red light."

His throat ran dry as the officer continued, disbelief crossing his mind. What was he trying to say?

"I'm sorry, they didn't make it. Their bodies were too weak to recover from their injuries. Mr. And Mrs. Grettly died."

What?

He sucked in a sharp breath. The officer said something more, but he couldn't hear it over the loud drumming in his ears. Everything was blotted out. It felt like the world was closing in around him.

"No," he whispered then jerked the phone from his face and ended the call. He slid it across the deck away from him as though it were on fire.

No.

He sat and waited on his parent's porch, eyes transfixed on the road as though any moment they'd drive up and he'd discover it was all a prank.
He waited for hours, no longer lilted by sleep. Hours became the rest of the night. Waiting. Watching. He was still and quiet. He refused to move until he saw his mother and father again.

They never showed up. Deep down Toren knew they wouldn't. Home was gone. They were gone, but he was stubborn. His heart refused to believe it. Not like this. They weren't supposed to go yet. He wasn't ready.

The truth was too painful.

A funeral was held a month later. One of their relatives took care of it. Toren didn't know who, he was still in a state of numb.
He was pleasantly surprised at how many people showed up. His parents were always warm and welcoming to anyone and he'd met a few of their family members, but he'd never bothered to get to know any.
He couldn't say what happened at the funeral. Just that people he didn't know came up to him and spoke their condolences. Their words were a blurred myriad of sounds to his ears.

It was too soon.

After the funeral Toren couldn't handle being in the city. Everything suddenly became too loud. Too suffocating. He struggled to cope with everything going on around him until he finally had enough.

On a whim, he packed his car full of his things, as much as he could get in. He terminated his renting contract. He'd already quit his job to deal with everything, so he no longer had any ties.

He left the city. He droved over the bridge and didn't look back. He kept driving. The farther away he got, the easier it was to breathe.

The easier it was to forget.

He didn't know where he was going, just that he would know when he got there.
Suddenly migrating to a new territory ruffled his feathers, so to speak. While it was relieving, it was also stressful.
Toren needed stability. He needed to know that he had a place to go back to and burrow himself in. Safety. Comfort.