Alejandro Vargas x Reader

Sixteen

"Don't open your eyes.", you ordered as you held Julio and Moro by their hands and led them across the driveway, past the bodies and blood that drenched the sand of your home. "Promise me you won't open your eyes."

"We promise.", Moro muttered as you stopped in front of one of the remaining cars.

You swallowed hard. It took you a second to gather the strength to step over the body that lay right in front of the stairs that led up the porch.

"Watch your steps.", you advised. "Don't worry about funny feelings."

"My feet are wet!", Julio complained.

Before he could open his eyes to take a look you pressed a hand to his face and pulled him up to the front door.

"It's just dirt.", you said and stepped into the kitchen. "Give me a second, I'll clean it in the sink."

"Papa Jandro said he doesn't want us to wash in the kitchen sink. He'll be mad."

A soft huff escaped you.

"He's mad about everything all the time.", you joked and let him sit on the countertops so that you could get the water running. "Don't open your eyes yet."

"Hm..."

You threw a glance over your shoulder.

Moro stood in the middle of the kitchen, gaze turned towards the hallway. From this angle he couldn't see anything, neither the dead out in the yard nor the traces of blood that Julio had left by stepping into one of the puddles.

But despite his inability to see he was still shaking all over. His shoulders were tense. It seemed like he was about to burst into screams.

With your eyebrows drawn together you let the water run over Julio's bloody shoe and walked up to check on your son.

"Mijo.", carefully, you placed your hands on his shoulders so that he knew that there was nothing to worry about. "Did you get hurt?"

"No..."

His breath was heavy. His body trembled under your touch.

With gentle force you grabbed his chin to make him look at you.

Tears covered his face. His eyes were disfigured in fear, reddened from the cries he held back. With his hands clenched into fists he silently sobbed as your eyes met.

"It's fine.", you whispered and pulled him into a hug. "I'm here."

Immediately, his arms wrapped around you and squeezed tightly. All the air got pressed from your lungs. But it was fine. He needed something to hold onto in this moment. And you were more than happy to be that anchor.

"It- it smells...", he whimpered as tears ran down his face and made his eyes turn red and his nose sore. "I- I can... it smells just like- it smelled... like this when I- I killed- killed that man... And- and when Rea died..."

"I know, mijo.", you patted his hair. "I know. I'm here. Let it all out..."

"I don't want to!", he yelled all of a sudden. "I don't want to let it out! I don't want to be weak! I- I'm scared... The weak die."

It broke your heart to hear the motto of every cartel of this country out of the mouth of a boy who wasn't even old enough to be considered a teenager yet.

Over and over again you let your fingers run through his hair for comfort. Whimpers turned into sobs, trembling turned into uneven breaths.

Only when you could feel his heartbeat calm down did you make him look at you again to wipe his tears with your thumb.

"Everything will be fine.", you whispered with a smile of encouragement. "We are here to protect you."

He wiped his nose.

"We?", Moro asked.

You chuckled.

"Por supuesto. Me and Alejandro. We love you, every single one of you. There's nothing we won't do to keep you safe."

A thin smile appeared on the boys lips. But he couldn't keep the tears inside that forced their ways out once more.

With a smile that told him everything was fine you pulled him back into a hug to allow him a few more minutes.

"W-why are we crying?", Julio suddenly asked, audibly close to tears as well.

Your gaze jumped up.

Julio still sat on the countertop, his eyes squeezed shut tightly, while tears poured out from between the cracks. Obviously he wasn't all that disturbed like Moro. But at his age confusion was enough to make a child cry.

"C'mon.", you took a deep breath and went to pick him up. "It's fine, niño. We're alright."

As you comforted him as well, your gaze wandered out the window.

Perhaps it was because of the car that had blocked a large portion of the sight outside but it was only then when you realised that something seemed to approach in the distance.

A large cloud of dust could be seen. The hint of engine sounds reached your ears.

Lightning chased through your body. Hastily, you grabbed the curtains and pulled them shut before one of the boys could look outside and be greeted with the sight of dead bodies and unidentified vehicles approaching their home.

"We need to get going!", you gasped and hushed Moro down the hallway towards the room where the rest of the kids waited.

"Where to?", Moro asked.

"Wesley, Niña, let's go!", you set down Julio to push him towards your bedroom and gave Moro a sign to watch him so that you could fetch the little ones. "Crawl under the bed. There are loose tiles. Take them all out."

With a nod, the boy got to it, grabbed his brother by the collar and dragged him along.

Quickly, you rushed to grab the smaller kids from the other room.

The twins started to scream and cry bloody murder as you picked them up from their crate and gave Wesley and Niña a sign so that they wouldn't waste a single second.

"Moro, how far are you?", you asked as you had gathered everyone in the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

You set the twins down on the bed to push a dresser in front of the door to block it.

Moro peaked out from under the bed.

"There are only briefcases here!", he gasped.

"Good.", you grabbed them from his hands. "Take the twins."

"What's happening?", Niña asked.

In one swift moment you grabbed the painting above the bed and tore it from the wall to reveal a hole, large enough to let two adults fit through.

"Get up there, I'll be right behind.", you helped Wesley up.