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solitablvd · 2 months ago

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Se Nos Acabó El Ratito

**Minors DNI**

Pairing: Javier Escuella x Female Reader

Read Parte 1 & Parte 2

Summary: “I came to America because I killed a man in México. A powerful man. I knew if I stayed, everyone I love would die. I ran, not for my life, but for theirs." ** In 1894, you are the wife of General Velasco, a powerful figure in the Mexican Army. One fateful night in Punta Orgullo, you cross paths with Javier Escuella.

Warnings: domestic violence, pre-video game, headcannon asf, romantic Javier idc, female reader

A/N: Thank you for reading and joining me on this journey.

Words: 3.4k

Ao3 Link

Parte 3

“Get up!” You jolted awake at the sound of Velasco’s booming voice.

You instinctively backed away as he neared you, grabbing you by the wrist and holding up your hand.

“What is this?” He questioned angrily, his words thick and unsteady as he shoved your ring clad hand back into you. You couldn’t tell if it was the dying, reflective glow of the candles, but you could’ve swore you saw fire in his eyes. You moved the hand behind your back, as if that could undo what had happened. You stammered a response unsure of what to say.

“A ring, that rose,” Velasco began, turning your attention to the rose laying on your window sill. His words were slurred and as he got closer to you, you could smell the mezcal on his breath.

“You think I didn’t notice how you looked at that revolutionary?” Your heart sank, heavy with sudden dread at the mention of Javier.

“Was he in here?” You began to tremble. Your eyes glossed over with tears. You had been caught.

“Answer me.” He finally demanded through clenched teeth. You opened your mouth to speak, but a forceful blow silenced you, sending a wave of pain and fear through your body.

You yelped at the stinging sensation, instantly holding your cheek with your hand. His looming body stood over you as you cowered lowly, choking back a sob as tears began to stream down your face. Without facing your assailant, you bolted towards the door.

His shouting echoed behind you, but in his drunken state he was no match for your swiftness. You ran through the courtyard, the cold night air hitting your skin and causing the stinging on your cheek to intensify. The gate would be locked, so you climbed the crates as you had done plenty of times before. In your rush, you lost your footing, hitting the floor with a thud as you scraped your limbs. Even so, you ran.

The pueblo was silent, but your own heavy breathing and sobs filled the night’s air. You didn’t bother with being quiet. All you could focus on was getting to Javier’s home. Once there, you knocked rapidly on the door, seeing the light of candles coming from inside.

It was Dolores, Javier’s mother, who answered the door, peeking slightly. Her eyes widened as she saw you, letting out a curse before quickly getting you inside. She pulled you in for a brief hug, and it was in her arms that you let yourself unravel.

“Desahogate,” She comforted soothingly.

She let you cry against her before holding you at arms length to look you up and down. “Are you okay? What happened? Javier!” She called out before you could answer.

In the heat of everything that was happening you didn’t realize that you could hear a multitude of voices coming from the kitchen. As you peered in from where you stood, you saw various men surrounding the dinner table as you heard Eduardo’s familiar voice speak to them all. The view was covered by Javier entering the main living area as he heard his mother’s call.

He froze at your sight. “‘Ta madre,” was all he managed to mutter. He rushed over to you, his eyes filled with concern. Your shoulders fell as he pulled you in, feeling relief in his touch.

His lips were tight as he carefully examined your swollen cheek. A pang of shame filled your body as he got a closer look, delicately holding your chin to keep you in place.

“Get a wet cloth.” He told his mother, who dutifully headed into the kitchen. With his attention back to you, Javier tenderly brushed your cheek with his fingertips. At your flinch he instantly backed his hand away.

Javier’s anger was bubbling just beneath his calm exterior. His gaze met yours as he spoke, “Stay here tonight.” You nodded at his words.

He looked at your tear-stained, swollen cheek once more before whispering plainly to himself, “I’m going to kill him.”

His threat loomed in the air. Before you could say anything you looked down at his clothes. He had his usual black pants and brown blazer; however across his chest was a bandolier and hanging from his waist was a gun belt adorned in weaponry. It was what he typically wore when he went bounty hunting. Suddenly, things were beginning to piece themself together.

“What’s going on?” You asked intently, looking back up to him.

“Eduardo— well, he and I have been planning something for a while. After the discussion we had today with… you know…” He trailed off. Your stomach tightened at the mere alluding to Velasco. “We decided to speed up our plans. We’re burning the fields tonight.”

Your mind raced as you tried to fully grasp what he said. At the same time, Dolores re-entered the main area, placing a cold, wet cloth on your cheek, making you wince in pain.

“I told him it was a bad idea.” Her tone was full of warning as she kept her eyes on your cheek.

“I’ll be fine.” Javier insisted, repeating the phrase for good measure, “We’ll be fine. Just stay here.”

You looked at him with worried eyes, but before you could say anything the men entered from the kitchen area, adorned in their own weaponry and carrying jugs of what you assumed was a flammable liquid.

Eduardo looked at you with quick concern before addressing Javier, “We need to go.”

Javier nodded, pressing a soft kiss against the ring on your hand before following the group of men out the front door and into the dark night.

You stayed with Javier’s mom and sister, unable to shake your worries as you sat on their couch. The moon was still bright in the sky. Anxiety ate at you as you thought about what Velasco was doing. Would he send soldiers to find you? Were they already looking? The fear that Dolores and Carmen could be hurt because of you twisted your chest.

Javier.

The name that could once make your head spin, only made your stomach turn. Would he be okay? Is he still alive?

Dolores remained at her kneeling space in front of their altar. This time not only muttering Emiliano’s name, but also Javier’s. Carmen paced the home, distracting herself with different tasks to keep busy as you all waited for any news. You remained frozen on their couch; your head in your hands as your thoughts began to consume you.

Suddenly, Dolores sighed, “Carmen, are you cooking something?” At Carmen’s gentle denial, she continued, “Then what is that smell?”

You looked up, and with a sniffle the burning scent became clear. Carmen caught on at the same time you did, running to the door and flinging it open. Smoke began to seep into the home. You jumped from your seat to look out the door. The thick clouds of smoke were covering the moonlit sky, in the distance you could see the bright glow coming from the direction of the agave fields. They had done it.

You followed Carmen outside, coughing slightly as the thick smoke enveloped the area like a blanket. Other villagers must have noticed as well, coming out of their homes to see what was happening.

From the other side of the village you heard a faint scream. Gunfire crackled from the direction of the fields. The sounds of hooves pounding on the sandy ground pulled you from your frozen trance as men raced by. Soldiers, on horseback and on foot, moved through the pueblo, some heading toward the fields while others dealt with the growing battle within the pueblo itself.

Dolores followed the two of you, but was immediately thrown into a rough coughing fit as the smoke hit her aging lungs. She fell to her knees, holding her chest as she wheezed. Carmen moved to help her quickly, bringing her to her feet and walking her back into the house. You moved to follow, but as the shouting increased around you, you turned at the increasingly chaotic scene before you.

Soldiers and revolutionaries clashed fiercely, but the situation worsened as soldiers began attacking innocent villagers who, like you, had now become entangled in the conflict. Amidst the chaos, the sounds of distant gunfire and shouts filled the air. The dark night mixed with the thick smoke made visibility nearly impossible, with only the moon's faint glow and the distant light of the burning fields offering any hope of sight.

The soldiers seemed to be gaining the upper hand, as they dragged different bodies to beat into obedience. The smoke had finally reached your lungs, throwing you into a violent coughing fit exacerbated by the sand being kicked up all around the pueblo. As you tried to turn and head back into the house, a soldier seized you by the arm.

“Get over h—” He growled.

You turned to look at the soldier, seeing it was Cabo Diego. His anger faltered when he recognized you, and confusion crossed his face, “You? What are you doing here?”

You remained silently distraught as he looked you up and down. Your breathing was unsteady from the smoke and sand filling your lungs, you had scrapes tainting your skin, and your cheek was still swollen and tear-stained.

He must’ve come to his own conclusions as his look turned into one of pity, “You were caught in the attack?”

“What?” You asked, still completely distraught with all that was happening around you. Cabo Diego shook his head before taking you by the arm and pulling you away.

As he dragged you through the village, you saw Javier’s home become smaller and smaller until it was completely out of vision. He shouted orders at other men as he rushed you up to the top of the hill.

The villa was empty, but not because the revolutionaries hadn’t gotten to it. The sight was jarring; the villa in obvious disarray. You stepped over the soil and ceramic pieces from the fallen planters as you followed Cabo Diego into the house. In the kitchen, you both approached Capitán González and Sargento Flores.

“I found her.” Cabo Diego began, gesturing towards you and interrupting the conversation the men were having, “She must’ve been grabbed by revolutionaries during the attack.”

He spoke as if you weren’t there. You didn’t say anything. Afraid of what Velasco could’ve told them and of what their next move would be.

Capitán González looked at you with sympathetic eyes and a deep sigh, “Alejandro— General Velasco, he’s… been killed.”

The sensation of your heart sinking felt disorienting. Part of you expected to feel relief, but instead, you were overcome with an unexpected pang of sympathy for the man. You didn’t expect to feel it, but it felt instinctual for the man who was your husband for so long. You took a deep breath, unsure of what to say to the men who were looking at you earnestly.

Capitán González cleared his throat, signaling Sargento Flores and Cabo Diego to go back to their duties before speaking with you privately, “The revolutionaries. They burned the fields. We went out there, but your husband never made it. Apparently, it was a distraction. There were men waiting here, they killed him.”

Javier. You knew it was him. You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the news feeling heavy on you.

“We have an idea of who it was. The men who were here for dinner. They would’ve been the only ones who knew how to get into the villa and where to find him.” He explained, “Don’t worry ma’am, we’ll find who did this.”

You remained staring at him numbly, giving only a tiny nod. What could you possibly tell him? That you hoped he’d never find the man responsible?

He cleared his throat uncomfortably before continuing, “We will have patrol around and inside the villa. I suggest you begin packing your things, señora. The Velasco family will send a stagecoach for you at sunrise.”

You finally got the courage to speak up at your newfound confusion, “Send for me?”

He nodded, “Yes. You will need to leave Nuevo Paraíso immediately and head down to Veracruz. They will take care of you there.”

You stood dumbfounded. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be their next step. González bid you a stiff goodbye and gave his condolences once more before leaving the villa, assumingly going to attend to the chaos that was filling Punta Orgullo.

You made your way towards your room. You were going to pack your things, but not for Veracruz and not to be with the Velasco family who’d you’d only met once at your wedding.

No, rather, you were planning to stay with Javier and his family. There you would be—

You gasped as you opened the door into your once shared room. His body wasn’t there, but the bed was stained with the blood of your now former husband. The deep red sight lit only by candles made your stomach churn.

You moved in a hurry to pack your things, throwing everything in the trunk at the foot of your bed, which you were purposefully avoiding looking at. In your mind a million different worries raced. You began to feel overwhelmed, tears welled up in your eyes. You were packing to leave with a man who you weren’t even sure was alive, while seeing the blood of another draped across the bed.

You went to the window sill, the unarmed rose Javier left still laid there. As you picked it up delicately every emotion you had felt finally caught up to you, making you double over in a weary sob. You felt emotionally exhausted.

The door to your room swung open, and González’s eyes widened at the sight of you. He moved to check if you were alright, unsure of how to comfort you, “Señora, we’ve caught them.”

He reached his hand to your shoulder, but you only jumped away from his touch, looking at him with bewildered eyes.

“What?” you choked out.

“The men— who killed Alejandro. The revolutionaries are retreating. We’ve captured their leaders.” He spoke as if his words would be reassuring to you. “They will be hanged at sunrise for their crimes against México.”

His words only deepened your agony. You buried your head in one of your hands, the other holding onto the rose as your sobs grew more intense.

To anyone, it might seem as though you were grieving your deceased husband, but each tear was a silent tribute to Javier. Your mind was flooded with the idea that come sunrise he would be gone.

González called out for help as he lifted you to your feet, saying something about having someone pack for you while you rested. He walked you downstairs, sitting you on a couch before leaving to direct more workers.

Javier was to be hanged at sunrise, for treason and assassination. You wanted to stop it; you needed to stop it, but felt helpless to the situation as the villa was full of soldiers patrolling and helping pack up your deceased husband’s belongings to be sent to Veracruz, along with you.

As dawn crept up, the world seemed to hold its breath, caught between night and day.

You hoped sunrise would never come. You felt exhausted, but were unable to sleep; the sheer worry kept you up. You listened in to different conversations in the villa, but were unable to gather any information on where Javier or the others were being held. You desperately asked to see the lead revolutionaries, but were denied each time, coming off as a weeping widow.

As the sun inched up, the air became crisp and cool. You moved out into the courtyard, your hands growing cold as you held onto the thornless rose, the last Javier would ever give you.

As the sun rose, the sky transformed into a delicate pale pink. It would’ve been comforting if it didn’t signify the most unforgiving fate. The men were being executed in the plaza, a haunting joke from above, as it was the exact spot you had met Javier. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop the execution.

At sunrise, you were helped into the large stagecoach sent by the Velasco family. Your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion as you sat in the velvet seat, the dim morning light filtering through the frosted windows. You closed the curtain as the driver and guard had hopped off the front to head inside to speak with Capitán González and gather everything that was coming to Veracruz with you.

You laid your head back against the seat in a tired defeat. The tapping on the window snapped you from your drowsy state.

You pushed the curtain open and jumped from your seat at the sight of Javier. Without any hesitation, you threw the door open to pull him inside, bringing him into a tight embrace.

His body was warm, just as it always was, but felt especially so in comparison to the cold you had been feeling both internally and externally. Tears welled in your eyes once more as relief, fear, and hope somehow all enveloped you. You clung to him, and when he cupped your face to kiss you for a split second his eyes that once held only virtue and dignity, held fear and sorrow.

He kissed you deeply as if he were savoring every inch of you. You kissed him back desperately, overwhelmed with emotion at his touch. His warmth enveloped you and you knew then that you never wanted to feel another touch again.

“You’re alive,” You beamed with tears in your eyes, still holding him close. He nodded happily, the similar tears swelling in his eyes.

“Yeah,” He breathed out, giving a sniffle before continuing, “I- I got out, but… Eduardo and Gael… they killed them.” He spoke lamentably, his voice shaking slightly as he recognized what was supposed to be his fate alongside his companions.

“They’re going to hunt me down,” He whispered shakily, “I have to leave.”

“I’ll go with you.” You nodded, completely ready to abandon the stagecoach and go anywhere as long as it was with him.

But he shook his head at you softly.

“I’m sorry mi vida…”

Distraught by his words you shook your head, “What? No. I’m going with you.” You insisted.

He sighed heavily, “I can’t have you come with me. They are going to hunt me down and kill me the second they have the chance. I need you safe… and that means away from me. I’m not leaving for my own safety; I’m leaving to ensure yours. You deserve a long, fulfilling life. You’ll be safe wherever they’re sending you, and I’ll be alive once I head North.”

“North?” You asked softly, “To America?”

He nodded somberly, “I already said goodbye to my mom and Carmen…”

You looked at him. The guitar and sombrero on his back, the clothes covered in dirt and dried blood: this was his last stop before leaving.

This was his final goodbye.

He took your hand, delicately intertwining your fingers, “Where are they taking you?”

“South to Veracruz…” You muttered, filled with despair.

“Veracruz,” he repeated, as if committing the name to memory.

You both remained silent, overtaken by the sorrowful energy of your final interaction. His finger continued to brush over your ring, delicately tracing over the engraved roses as his heart filled with a deep remorse.

“I love you,” He reassured you, “We’ll see each other again,” pressing a tender kiss against your lips. But your hope was long gone.

Still, you nodded and muttered against his lips, “I love you too.”

With a final sigh, he slowly exited the stagecoach, struggling to let go of your hand. He stood outside the stagecoach as you leaned out the window, wanting to hold onto him for as long as you could. He kissed where the gold band rested on your finger tenderly.

“I’ll see you soon, preciosa.” The now orange sky burned in his eyes as you tried your best to keep them in your memory.

With those words, he let go of your hand. Backing away, he committed your own gaze to memory. At last, he turned to leave covertly. As you watched him head North towards America and into the horizon, you knew you’d never love again.

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