Dawn { a javier peña fanfiction }

Chapter Nine - Born to Die

"But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine."

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The car ride to the ranch was quiet, giving Javier far too much space to replay Richie's words on a demented loop in his head.

You've done nothing with your life, Javier. Those fucking narcos are still out there and you're here, doing what? Cleaning horse shit out of your father's stalls like we did when we were thirteen?

Richie was a jackass, Richie was obviously going through his own shit, but Richie was also right. His words were the same ones Javier repeated to himself over and over again, whenever he was alone, whenever he was without the solacing presence of Mia.

What else is a guy like you gonna do?

He didn't know. He hadn't known since the moment he turned in his resignation. He'd only ended up back here because his restraint had firmly died out and he needed to see Mia again.

Mia.

How long would it take before she would adopt the same thoughts as her brother? How long before she would see him for what he truly was— a monster, a failure, a brute who was good for nothing beyond destroying the lives of others.

Javier pulled up in front of the ranch and cut the engine. The porch light from the main house was a bright glow against the darkening December sky, painting the grass and gravel a faint yellow.

Chucho was sitting in his usual spot, cowboy hat perched on his head, toothpick sticking out the side of his mouth.

"Mija," his father's voice rumbled across the space as the two of them exited the truck. "I was wonderin' when Javier would stop being so selfish and finally let me see you again."

"Hi Chucho," Mia said softly, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction when Javier placed his hand on the small of her back, trying to lead her away, toward the guest house, to avoid Chucho's perceptive stare.

His father was too quick, though, or perhaps psychic like Mia sometimes liked to suggest. Chucho's eyes flickered down to Mia's throat— still red and blotchy from Richie's hand— then widened as his gaze flickered between his son and her.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low, creeping toward demanding.

Mia glanced back at Javier, then strode forward, taking the spot next to Chucho.

Dear god.

Javier let out a sharp exhale, following her up the steps of the porch, then leaning back against one of the pillars. The last thing he wanted to do right now was have a conversation about this with his father. He wanted to take Mia to bed, he wanted to silently mull over Richie's words some more, he wanted to forget any of this had happened at all, though he knew that would be impossible.

"Richie freaked out," Mia said simply, fiddling with the seam of her shirt.

Chucho's eyebrows darted up, sparing a quick glance over at his son before he turned back to Mia. "He hurt you?" Chucho asked, his eyes once again darting down to Mia's neck.

Javier felt that black tide of fury rise back up in his gut, causing his hands to curl into shaky fists at his sides. "That hijo de puta..." he involuntarily muttered under his breath. He didn't think he would ever forgive Richie for that, regardless of whether or not he'd been cognizant.

Mia nodded, her hand snaking up to cover her neck.

The sight made Javier want to scream.

Chucho shook his head, his jaw clicking as he stared off across the ranch, "That boy... dios mío."