Extras🎬

Chase & Santiago :/

A/N - Chase my underrated boy🥹🥹

TW for most of this scene...

~~~

Third person POV

It was no secret that Santiago Delgado was nothing short of a sick and twisted individual.

What else could be said for a man who prioritised his sons' ability to fight, handle a weapon, over their happiness on a daily basis?

He didn't even fit under the definition of a father, he was merely the man who partially gave his sons and daughter life- because no father belittled his children with both verbal and physical abuse, correct?

The man was an anomaly, sadistic, bringing harm to six innocent boys who didn't know anything different.

"You want to place your non-dominant hand, so your left, underneath like this- and your right will hold it properly, pointer on the trigger Chase", the scene unfolding would've been viewed as comical if this was a laughing matter, the gun in a six year old's tiny hands and practically weighing him down, "just like this".

Santiago demonstrated first, earning himself a small nod from a confused looking Chase, he adjusted the pair of glasses strapped around his head and tried to watch carefully, even though he knew his brothers and sister were back inside making cookies with their mother.

He wanted to help them, have fun with them, but instead he was out in the shed-like building that his father had built at the back of the garden, solely to teach his children how to fight, shoot, be a 'man'.

"Can we go and make the cookies?", Chase asked his father quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, on his tiny feet, "I wanna make cookies".

"Will cookies help you when you're older?", Santiago crouched so he was level with his son, tipping his chin up with his index and middle fingers, "will cookies help you to be powerful, to scare people?".

Chase didn't want to scare people, let alone hold a weapon that he knew bad guys had in movies. But against his better judgment, he shook his head at his father who hummed, rising to his full height once again.

"Like this?", Chase tried to hold the gun, it was heavy in his hands, making his arms hurt too.

"Left hand under", Santiago tutted, positioning his hands correctly, "I want you to shoot it".

Chase didn't want to shoot it.

He wanted to help the others making cookies, and maybe eat some of the cookie dough before it went in the oven; he hoped his mother would save him some.

"I don't wanna-,", his protests were cut short the second Santiago yanked the gun from his loose grip, crouching at Chase's side yet again and pointing it in front of the two of them, his hand almost level with his son's right ear.

"Am I raising a coward?", he snarled in the six year old's ear, gripping the gun tighter, "am I?".

"No sir", the boy shook his head, keeping his gaze downwards, "I don't-,".

He didn't have a chance to speak as the ear-splitting sound of the gun being fired filled the air, every corner of the room, Chase's ears.

He recoiled, scurrying towards the corner of the room with his hands covering his ears firmly, a little too much too late.

He couldn't hear anything.

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed harder on his ears, trying not to cry as the ringing intensified; he'd be punished if he cried.