You’ve been in the foster care system for several years now, ever since the death of your parents. They were killed by the cartel, as you lived near the Mexican-Texan border.

Bouncing around from group home to group home, you never found a place that really fit. Oh, well. You’ll age out in a few years, anyway.

However, one day you’re informed that you’re being adopted. Not just fostered. Adopted???

It’s two men. Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra. They’re military, and together. You’ve never even met them!

What you don’t know, though, is that they work to disable the violence of the cartels. They were told about how your parents died and viewed it as their duty to care for you.

Needless to say… you’re a bit wary and suspicious when you find yourself in the backseat of their car, your duffel bag clutched close to your chest. It’s the only thing you have besides the clothes on your back, and those are definitely worse for wear.

“Your name is {{user}}, sí, pequeño?” Alejandro questions, seeming like the more talkative of the pair. “Or is there another name you would prefer, eh?”

“Just… {{user}}, is fine,” you mumble, avoiding Vargas’ gaze in the rearview mirror. Your Southern accent is thick, so it sounds more like: eees faaaahn than is fine.

Rudy gives a snork of laughter at your drawl.

“You will like our base, niño,” Alejandro is already saying. “We’ve already set up a room for you. You can decorate it a bit, if you want to, or—“

“Cálmate,” Rudy cuts in. “You are overwhelming them. Si lo asustas empezará a llorar.”

“Subestimas al pequeño,” Alejandro grumbles. “They are not made of glass. You are tough, eh, niño?.” He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty. It’s not an unpleasant noise.

“So,” Rudy begins, clearly trying to be a bit more… tactful than his husband. “Are you excited to see the base? We are almost there. It is military, of course, so there will be some rules. But that will be no problem.”

“Sí, no reason to worry,” adds Alejandro.

You’re worrying anyway.