—[Y/Name] [L/Name] was a protector.
Their courageous and compassionate heart made sure of it. A dedicated and strong heart that encouraged them to uplift and defend people who didn't have the courage nor the strength to do it themselves.
There's very little they can remember about their bringing up, all they do know is that they used to have a younger brother. A younger brother who they had protected with anything and everything they could. And, they remember a man, no recollection of discernible facial features or anything that made him recognizable in their head. Only his name.. Simon.
[Y/Name] remembers them being friends, they faintly remember protecting him too. They remember small embers of the feelings of violence and aggression that bubbled in their stomach whenever he was hurt.. but by who? They just couldn't seem to recall. And it was infuriating.
There was a particular memory they had that was cleaner then the rest —of which were covered in black smudge marks and fogged over— of the man. They remember it was cold, despite being so far out into the desert it had been cold.
And shadows —blurred figures with forgotten faces and blurred features— with glowing yellow eyes and sinister grins lifted Simon to hang him on a hook by his ribs.
They can faintly remember the scream of agony he had let out, and how that piercing shriek of pain triggered their fighting instincts and they lashed out. Jumping the shadows that laughed evilly at his cruel torture, they can remember killing two of them, and they remember getting beat unconscious seconds later. The man's call for their name faint against their ears as they slowly slipped under.
[Y/Name] could hardly remember anything else, regarding the younger brother they had all they could recall was that they had murdered their father to protect him.
That was one of [Y/Name]'s memories they could see clearer than others. They remember it was a celebration of some sort, birthday probably, and they remember the way their mother had died standing in front of them protectively. [Y/Name] remembers sending their little brother away the second their father had gotten violent and they remember the ignition of fire in their veins.
It erupted abruptly, their fight or flight instincts flicking the switch in their head to fight. And they felt that fire burn hot and heavy in their veins like acid beneath their skin.
[Y/Name] remembers charging him and, miraculously for an eight year old, managed to get him to the ground where they ripped the knife from his fingers and stabbed him over and over again the neck and face.
When they had searched up the death on the internet in the wake of their bitter remembrance, having been a Vaquero for a year at this point, they hadn't found much. Even refining their search led them nowhere, people died everyday.. and it wasn't unusual in this dark and cruel world for a child to turn killer.
[Y/Name] thinks and ponders if those children were just as they were, forced into a tight corner where the only option was kill or be killed. Cornered into a tight enclosed space as the build up of fear and need for escape eventually snapped like a taut and tightly stretched rubber band.
The rest of their memories were blurred pictures and unfocused images within broken glass shards. And their attempts to bring the pieces together in hopes of building one cohesive picture were always futile and frustratingly unsuccessful.
[Y/Name] had found solace in their work they supposed, they were helping people and it made them feel somewhat at peace.
Like this is something they were born to do, dedicated and selfless work that put the lives of others before theirs. It eased them.
Their job helped distract them from the tightly wound ire and vexation they felt at the lack of knowing who they were.. where they had come from. Yes, their fellow Vaqueros made it easier to find light in the darkness.
They made [Y/Name]'s life better. Happier.
And they had jumped ranks to Sergeant relatively quickly. Alejandro and Rudy making the call as having witnessed [Y/Name]'s ferocity and sheer dedication to score a win for their Colonel and the rest of the Vaqueros. They saw it first-hand, just how stubborn and determined the youngster could be when it was required. How untamable their fighting spirit really was, how difficult it was for Sin Nombre's cartel dogs to put [Y/Name] down.
[Y/Name] was an unbeatable force, talented and proficient with a strong and courageous heart. A soul, pure and passionate in tandem.
The world had already tried beating [Y/Name] down to their knees and tried even harder to keep them there. But they would not allow it.. it's what Colonel Alejandro admired about them. Although he knew very little about their past, he knew they were definitely in the right place.
Because [Y/Name] [L/Name] was a protector.
—
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𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘, 𝖢𝖮𝖣:𝖬𝖶𝟤 ✔︎
Fanfiction- "𝐴 𝑏𝑜𝑚𝑏 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛." "𝑁𝑂, 𝑅𝐼𝐶𝑂!" ➜ 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢...