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Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Oscar took a sip of the horchata the sisters kept in the kitchen refrigerator. They would kill him when they found out he was the one drinking it all, but he didn't care.

Luckily for him, Sister Maria didn't mind too much.

He watched the woman scribble messy words on a notepad at one of the counters. She tore the paper off with a satisfying rip and turned around.

"I need you to get some things for me."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "What do I look like? Your personal grocery shopper?"

She pursed her lips and placed her hands on her round hips. "I'm letting you stay here for free and that's how you speak to me?"

"It was just a joke, hermana," he replied quickly. He offered the woman a weak smile, which she simply rolled her eyes at.

The nun went over her shopping list one last time before handing it over to Oscar. He rubbed his eyes again and squinted at it. He wasn't dyslexic, but the handwriting before him made him question if he was. Frowning, he looked up at the woman.

"How am I supposed to read this?"

"Ay, dios mio." She shook her head at him before reading the list aloud. "You got that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he answered. "I got it."

He wasn't actually upset about having to do her grocery shopping. It was just fun messing with her. If anything, he was glad for the brief outing out of the church. He and Xiomara had been staying in the basement for the last three days. Atlas had continued their search for their stolen cargo but it wouldn't be long until they abandoned it.

Besides, they had just hit a big score in North Dakota. According to the news, a raid on a secret Prime hideout had been hit. Six Primes had been captured while five others escaped.

Oscar had a feeling he knew who was involved.

But none of that was his business. He still had his own mission to tend to.

At the moment, though, his mission was to head to the farmer's market to pick up the ingredients Sister Maria needed for dinner later that day.

"Alright, I'll be back in a bit," he told her as he made his way over to the exit. Before he could leave, the old woman grabbed his hand. He peered at her over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Take Xiomara with you."

"Huh? Why would I do that?"

"She needs to get out of here. Get some sun. She looks depressed."

Oscar took a look at the little girl, who was sat in the pews across the hall from the kitchen. She sat alone, her face pointed toward the stage where the priest gave his sermons. While he couldn't see her expression from where he was standing, he could see the sadness pouring from her body.

Sister Maria was right. The girl was depressed.

Still, he didn't want to take her with him. What if Atlas spotted her? He wasn't really in the mood to fight off a bunch of Jaegers, especially not in broad daylight.

"Can't you just watch her?" he asked the nun. "She'll be safer here."

"Safer? Safer from what?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

He cursed under his breath, which earned him a scolding glare. He quickly apologized and rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean...you know how the city is. Can never be too careful."

"Mhmm," she said, unimpressed. "But you'll be there to protect her."

His face fell. Memories of the past flickered in his head like tiny fires.

It had been proven many times that he wasn't cut out to be a 'protector'. He couldn't even protect his own family. What made Sister Maria think he was cut out to protect some girl he barely even knew?

"Just do it, please. Who knows, she might open up more."

Yeah, I doubt that.

She wasn't going to let it go until he agreed. So that's what he did.

"Speaking of opening up," Sister Maria began while stirring a spoon in a cup of tea, "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Why did you bring her here?"

His features twisted in confusion. "Where else was I going to take her?"

"You don't seem like the type to just save orphans off the street," she elaborated. "No offense."

"Gee, thanks."

"Tell me the truth this time. Where did you find her?"

Dropping his gaze to his dirty and ripped up shoes, he debated whether he should do it or not. He wanted to tell her the truth. Truly, he did. His secret often weighed down on him like an anchor, threatening to drag him beneath the angry waves that crashed within him. But what if she wasn't as receiving of the truth as he thought she would be? While she was a nice woman and all, she was catholic.

And Catholics didn't tend to like his kind. Primes reminded them of demons. At least, that's what he heard from the nuns when they spoke amongst themselves.

Father Vincent once called the incident at Adak Island that unleased the Primes on the world the beginning of the end-times.

But Sister Maria didn't seem like the rest of them. There was something different about her; the woman had secrets of her own. He had a feeling she hadn't been a nun for her whole life. He once caught a glimpse of the scar that ran along the length of her leg. Never had he asked about it, but he was starting to wonder if he should have.

Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.

Am I really about to do this?

It was a risk. What if she kicked him and Xiomara out of the church? And that would've been just the bare minimum of what she could've done. His stomach tightened as he felt his palms start to sweat. It felt like a boa constrictor had coiled around his neck.

What if she reported him to Atlas?

She didn't seem like the type to do something like that, but he could never be too sure. Putting too much trust in someone was exactly how he was going to end up locked in The Vault. He would be damned if he let that happen.

"Fine!" Sister Maria threw her hands into the air. "Don't tell me!" A sympathetic look settled on her face like a fresh sheet of snow. "You can trust me, Uriel. Believe it or not, I've seen a lot. Not much you can say that will surprise me."

He chewed on his bottom lip as he internally argued with himself. The lady had been nothing but helpful towards him since they met. Maybe he could trust her...

"If I tell you this," he began, bringing his voice to just above a whisper, "you have to promise you won't tell anyone else. Not even Father Vincent."

She stiffened and lifted her brows. "Oh. This must be serious."

He nodded.

She extended her pinky toward him. "I promise." Resisting the urge to smile, he wrapped his finger around hers, sealing the deal.

Here goes nothing.

"Xiomara is a...she's a Prime," he explained. "I rescued her from an Atlas convoy. That one you heard about on the news a few days ago."

"She...she was in that thing?" With her eyes wide, she looked to where the little girl was still sitting. "How did you manage to do that?"

Oscar wrung his hands as if they were full of water.

"That's because I'm a Prime too."

The nun went silent. He could see her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at him. Her hands trembled slightly but she didn't move from her spot. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but couldn't find the words. His own hands started to shake as he waited for her to break the silence.

His eyes flicked over to the house phone mounted on the wall. He wondered if she was about to make a break for it.

"I always suspected you were different," Sister Maria finally said. She released a deep breath and smiled warmly at him. "Now I know for certain."

He scrunched his face at her. "Are you going to call the police on us?"

"What?!" She waved him off. "No, no. Of course not. Your secret is safe with me."

Oscar smiled back at the woman. It quickly turned to a sheepish one as he realized he had one more lie to clear up. "Also...my name isn't Uriel. It's Oscar."

Gasping loudly, she pressed her hands to her chest. "I'm not sure if I can excuse that. It's one thing to lie about being superhuman, but to lie about your name?" She kissed her teeth and shook her head. A sly grin covered her face. "That is just unforgivable."

He stifled a laugh. The tension that had built up within his muscles subsided like the tide retreating into the ocean.

"Now that your secret is out in the open," she joked, "let's focus on the more important issue at hand." She gestured at the shopping list still in Oscar's hand. "I need those ingredients soon. We're having bible study later today and people have been asking for my world-famous pozole."

His eyes lit up.

"Do I get some?"

"If you come to bible study, yes."

He groaned. "Never mind."

"You never know, Oscar. It could do you some good."

He had no plans on attending their religious gathering. He had been Catholic, once upon a time, due to his parents, but with all that had happened to him over the years, he was certain no omnipotent deity in the sky was looking over him. And if there was, they were idly standing by as his life slowly crumbled to pieces.

He wanted nothing to do with them.

Oscar faced away from the woman. "I'm going now." As he turned to head towards the exit of the church, she called him back. He stopped.

"Don't forget to take Xiomara with you."

Nodding, he told her goodbye and went to find the girl in the pews.

She had moved out of her seat and was now staring up at one of the stained glass panes built high into the walls. Oscar settled in beside her and mirrored her vision.

Brilliant blue, orange, and yellow panes combined to create an image of a phoenix with its wings spread out. A raging fire served as the backdrop; the bright sun rays streaming through the glass danced in the air, illuminating the room.

"Cool, right?" Oscar said.

Xiomara glanced at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the artwork. She nodded.

"C'mon," he told her. "We're going out."

"Out?"

"Sister Maria needs us to get some things for dinner." He jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged nonchalantly. "She also thinks we need to get out of the church for a bit."

Xiomara nodded again. Turning on her heel, she practically skipped toward the exit of the church. "Vamanos!"

Smiling, he followed behind her. Someone's excited.

As they approached the heavy wooden doors, he spotted Sister Maria watching them from the kitchen. She boasted a smile stretching from ear-to-ear. She looked like a proud mother sending her children off on an epic quest.

Except the quest was just to pick up some food.

"Have fun!" She waved at them as they left.

Chuckling to himself, he waved back and continued behind Xiomara.

#

Despite it being the middle of winter, the California sun was in full flex. Though, Los Angeles didn't really have a winter; it was best described as a short period where it wasn't as hot as the rest of the year.

Wiping the thin coat of sweat off his forehead, Oscar continued his trek through the farmer's market with Xiomara at his side. He had shed his jacket, revealing the dark red tank top he wore underneath it.

Xiomara was dressed in the clothes the nuns had given her—an oversized shirt with the church's logo on it and a pair of blue sweat pants. It wasn't the best attire for the heat beating down on them.

Though, she didn't look hot. Not at all. He arched an eyebrow at her as he watched her marvel at all the tents and impromptu shops around them. Colorful tarps flapped in the faint breeze. Signs with bold, Spanish words on them decorated the tents and small shops, advertising various goods ranging from candy to soccer jerseys.

The smell of fresh churros, potent spices, and meat sizzling on a grill somewhere wafted through the air. Mariachi music blaring from a faraway speaker drummed in Oscar's ears. He couldn't help but smile. He peered at Xiomara beside him. For once, she looked at ease.

Perhaps the market reminded her of home.

For him, it reminded him of his parents.

A frown tugged at his lips. Attempting to distract himself from the thought of them, he decided to ask the girl a question.

"Hey, you never told me where you're from."

"El Salvador."

He wrinkled his nose at her answer. Being Mexican himself, he had a natural disdain for El Salvador. As a kid, he always enjoyed seeing the Salvadorians lose to the Mexican national soccer team.

Though, he supposed Xiomara wasn't too bad. She didn't talk much, which was fine with him. At least she wasn't annoying like some little kids he knew.

"You might want to keep that one to yourself around these parts," he joked.

She frowned at him.

"Kidding, kidding."

Rolling her eyes, she kept walking.

The pair continued walking through the market. They went through Sister Maria's list in the order it had been written in. Oscar picked up the cans of hominy first. The spices—garlic, cumin seeds, pepper, and onions—were next. His last stop was the pork shoulder—arguably the most important part of the dish.

What was pozole without the meat?

As he re-read the list, making sure he got everything, he lifted his head to make sure Xiomara was still with him.

His heart stopped.

She wasn't.

Panic ensued.

A massive lump formed in his throat and prevented him from breathing for a few minutes. He spun around, his eyes widened as he searched for her in the crowd of sweaty people. His hands shook once he realized she was nowhere to be seen.

No, no, no.

Was she lost? Maybe she just wandered off. Had someone taken her? Atlas were all over the city. They could've seen her and taken her while he wasn't looking. They could've—

"Hey!" someone shouted. "You have to pay for that!"

His eyes cut to a stand selling fresh fruits and vegetables. A sigh of relief left his mouth upon seeing Xiomara standing in front of it with a mango in her hand. She shot the owner of the stand a confused look. Shaking his head, Oscar made his way over to her.

He snatched the mango out of her hand and set it back down with the others. He then gave the owner of the fruit an apologetic glance. "Sorry about her. I promise she wasn't trying to steal. She doesn't speak English very well."

The man simply huffed at him.

Oscar faced the girl, his brows furrowed. He crouched in front of her and gave her the sternest look he could muster. "You can't just wander off like that."

"Why?"

"Why...?" He gave her an incredulous look. "If I lost you, Sister Maria would never let me hear the end of it."

She shrugged at him. Then she pointed at a mango.

"You just strayed off and now you want me to buy you something?" He facepalmed. This girl, man. He fished his hand in his pocket for one of the crumpled dollar bills stuffed inside. After coming up with one, he tossed it onto the table. Xiomara grabbed her piece of fruit and the two of them headed for the butcher's table.

"Don't do that again," he told her. "I mean it."

"Lo siento," she replied.

He sighed. His anger had been short-lived. She obviously hadn't meant it; there was no point in being upset with her. Besides, all kids like to wander. It must've been hardwired into them or something.

Still, she needed to stay close. If he lost her, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. While he had only known her for less than a week, he could already feel himself getting attached.

And he hated it.

He didn't want to get close to anyone, especially not now. Everyone he ever loved either left him or was forcibly taken from him. It was better for them if he distanced himself. Xiomara didn't need to get caught up in his mess.

Plus, his mission against Atlas only had two outcomes: victory or death. While he preferred the former, he wouldn't mind the latter.

The sooner he found someone to take care of the little girl the better.

After picking up the pork shoulder, which weighed more than he thought it would've, the two of them prepared to make the journey back to the church. It was about a twenty-minute walk, and with all the bags in his hands, he didn't fancy the trek. The heat wasn't going to make it any more bearable either. But there wasn't much he could do about it. He hated public transportation and he didn't have a car.

Walking would have to suffice.

Oscar brought Sister Maria's list up to his eyes. He checked it one last time before leaving the farmer's market.

"Alright, that's everything," he said. Stuffing the paper into his pocket, he noticed a few shadows approaching him from behind. Next to him, Xiomara went stiffer than a board. Her amber eyes widened with fear.

Clenching his jaw, Oscar spun around. A curse flew from his lips.

"Long time no see, ese."

Not now...

His past antics were catching up with him. Other than Sister Maria, Armando the Taco Guy was his only friend. He met the man after scaring off a few gangbangers who were harassing his truck and those around it. Ever since then, he had been playing the part-time role of protector of the tacos in exchange for free meals.

The gang members must have known something was off about him, as they never seemed to want to pick a fight with him. He didn't blame them. If they ever tried, he would've torched them without hesitation.

It seemed like they were itching for a fight today.

Standing in front of him were three members of the Los Diablos Rojos, the local gang who went around committing crimes and collecting 'debts' for whatever douchebag they worked for.

Oscar wanted nothing to do with him.

"Get behind me," he whispered to Xiomara. She nodded and scampered behind him. Biting her lip, she peeked out from behind her new guardian.

"Who's the little girl?" one of the men, a bald man with tacky face tattoos named Primo, asked. "Sister?" He raised his eyebrows. "Daughter?"

"She's none of your business," he snapped. "We were just leaving, so if you don't mind—"

Primo chuckled darkly. The men beside him did the same, laughing along with him like stupid henchmen from an old cartoon. They all wore tank tops paired with embarrassingly long jean shorts. Oscar figured they never got the memo that it wasn't 2006 anymore.

"We just got here, amigo. You tryna leave already?" Primo said, feigning hurt in his voice.

It felt like a hummingbird was trying to break free from inside Oscar's ribcage. His skin might have been impervious to fire, but he could feel the sweat starting to trickle down his face. His mouth dried as if he had swallowed a cup of sand.

He was in a tricky spot.

Standing in the middle of the farmer's market meant he couldn't use his powers to defend himself. If he did, he risked causing a mass panic. Worst case scenario meant Atlas would get called. Then he would have much larger problems than Los Diablos Rojos.

His pyrokinetic abilities had progressed greatly since he left Atlas, but his combat prowess had not. If things escalated, he didn't back himself in a fight against the trio before him.

But he had to keep Xiomara safe. His feud with Los Rojos Diablos had nothing to do with her. The only thought in his mind was getting back to the church. He knew they wouldn't follow him there; they were criminals but everyone knew to keep drama away from Trinity Mission. Father Vincent didn't play those games.

"Look, I don't want any

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