And when I pray to God

all I ask is

Can beauty come out of ashes?

.

The passerbyes were diminishing in number along the sidewalks near the stores, and gone almost everywhere else. To any unsuspecting observer, the streets would have appeared less busy at this darkening hour... But to those who had the whole picture, this was, of course, far from the truth. One had to have lived in the area for a long time to even begin to note all the different shapes crime could take, unless... they were used to it.

"Hey, girl, come back here!"

"Don't you wanna' have some fun?"

Trying to lose the two thugs currently following her was a young teen. She cast a mute but distressed glance behind her shoulders before reaching into her purse, trying to find her phone. Someone roughly gripped her elbow, however, forcing her to turn around.

"What's the matter, honey?" One of the men leered, flashing her a lewd grin. "Are you lost?... We can take you home if you want."

Hidden behind an outdoor stand where he was watching the scene unfold, Alejandro waited, perfectly motionless. Both rats were armed and visibly did not intend to back down. He knew all too well where this was headed. All he needed was the right opportunity.

"Leave me alone!" The girl snarled, tearing herself free. Her aggressor made another move to grab her, but she swivelled on her feet and broke into a run, veering into an alley. They dashed after her, soon catching up. The bulkier one tackled her against a wall and she whined in pain, dizzy from the impact.

"Where do you think you're goin', huh?" He grunted in her ear. His breath reeked of alcohol and pot. "I'm not even started with you."

He squeezed her throat and she gasped, eyes beginning to water as her vision swam.

"No!" She pleaded in a strangled voice. "Let me go, please!"

"Look at her, Benjamin! Squirmin' like a lil' worm!"

He laughed, turning his head around to look at his accomplice, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"...Benjamin? Oi, where're you man?" He called impatiently, frowning in confusion. He was about to look around when a pair of hands swiftly grabbed his neck from behind and violently shoved him into the nearest corner, clamping down like a vice.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" A low voice rumbled in the darkness.

The thug made a gurgling sound as his eyes went wide. The mysterious assailant was entirely dressed in black and his gaze was devoid of emotion.

It was like staring at the Reaper itself.

He tried kicking his legs, but his efforts were futile. Alejandro tightened his hold with renewed purpose, but hesitated as he heard the girl behind them trying to catch her breath. Dealing with the other man had been easy and quick in the midst of their short pursuit, but this one... There was no way around it. He would not kill him in front of her.

"I'll see you later..." He assured darkly, releasing him with a push strong enough to send him stumbling on his way.

Now alone with the girl, he slowly turned around, noting that she was still in the same spot. He eyed her gravely from where he stood in the shadows, taking in her frail silhouette and sunken eyes with concern.

What had they done to her?...

Isabel pressed herself as far as she could into the flat surface, well aware of the remaining presence lurking only meters away.

"Who's there?" She called, eyes darting about in panic. She was shaking all over, visibly petrified.

Alejandro could have moved or made a sound at her request, but chose not to.

Not yet.

Truth be told, he did not know how she would react, and this made him somewhat apprehensive. Many times during his recovery, he had refrained himself from visiting her, knowing it would not be wise. She had been there, had witnessed his very assassination in close range before being taken away once more. He remembered distantly hearing her muffled shrieks through his own desperate struggle, and her deafening scream before losing consciousness. There had been no doubt in his mind that she believed him dead, just as everybody else did. He did not want to make her relive the trauma she had endured, or make it any worse than it already was.

He quirked his mouth, faintly intrigued by his own self-doubt. He could manipulate and betray. He could break bones and spill blood... and yet, here he was now, reluctant to show himself to a defenseless child. Wavering in confliction, not in regard for his wellbeing, but hers entirely.

He blinked, his expression becoming slightly wistful as he observed her.

Very little had changed since the first time they had seen each other face to face, a year and a half ago, in the decrepit bathroom of an abandoned house during what had been but a masquerade of a rescue. He still felt somewhat guilty; Although, not so much for putting up this shameful pretense, but for causing her this much fright. She had been so scared, bound and blinded as she was, that she had been crying. Flinching and quivering in terror at his mere touch, as though fearing he might strike her, or force her down and-

He snapped his head to the side with a sharp intake of air as his mind strayed, lips curling in disgust.

How is this any different? His conscience suddenly accused - and it would effectively have extinguished all feelings of righteousness if he had had any to begin with. For indeed, how could he ever dare seeing himself as any better than the rest of them, especially after everything he had done?... To families? To children?... He had taken many lives and destroyed many more still. He was a monster crawling among monsters.

"I said, who's there?" Isabel repeated, albeit no more assertively than the first time. If possible, she rather looked even more afraid than before, apparently taking the lack of response as a threat.

Her demand was thankfully enough to shake him out of his dark musing, however, and he took it as his cue that he had waited long enough. With a deep sigh, he wearily stepped forward and walked into the light, arms partially lifted at his sides for her to see.

"It's me," he softly spoke. "...I'm back."

She froze, staring at him with her mouth agape. He could not tell whether she was horrified or simply shocked to see him, but figured it was likely both.

I won't hurt you, he wanted to add, but decided against it. His involvement in her life had been nothing but detrimental, and he knew he was not in any position to make promises. He could only hope she would not publicly report him to the police, although he knew it was all he deserved.

He had begun reviewing in his mind the many different ways to approach this when subtle movement caught his eyes. Sharply, he looked back at her from where his gaze had drifted to see that she was swaying on her feet, having gone from rigid to limp in the span of a few seconds.

A broken gasp escaped her and she finally sunk to the ground, shoulders sagging as she hunched on herself, eyes locked on him still.

"Alejandro..."

He read his name on her lips more than he heard it, for it was a hoarse and half-smothered murmur, but something about the earnest and desperate way she said it caused his heart rate to abruptly increase.

For a reason he could not fathom, the fact that she remembered his name struck him as significant, and this troubled him. Setting his jaw, he took another tentative step towards her.

"Are you hurt?" He asked automatically, inwardly wincing in dismay when his query only made her sob even harder. Still he persisted, leaning in closer. "...Isabel. Has anyone injured you in any way since I've been gone? I need to know."

She was hugging herself, curved into a tight ball face down against the cracked pavement, but managed to shake her head amidst the strong tremors rocking her entire frame.

He closed his eyes at that, allowing himself a quiet sigh of relief. From the moment she had been kidnapped, he had considered her his responsibility, but he would be lying to himself if he said he had not grown attached to her during their short time spent together as well. He legitimately did not want to cause her any harm. There was no reason for it. She was only part of the collateral damage.

With a frown, he realized he did not quite know what he would have done if she had been abused, tortured or killed. Eventually, he let go of the thought with a shake of his head.

He preferred not to dwell on it.

"...ot... e...ou..."

"Hm?"

He slowly crouched before her, tilting his head in an attempt to hear her better.

"It... cannot... be you..."

Her face was blocked from view, hidden by her hair which, Alejandro noted with a spark of fondness, had already grown back to more than half its original length. He could not properly see her face, but it was obvious in the way she spoke that she was still weeping.

He contritely looked away, unsure of what to say. "I... thought staying far from you would be the right thing to do. I thought it would make things easier."

She snapped upwards at those words, so brusquely he twitched in surprise.

"What...?"

All trace of sadness had been momentarily wiped from her face, replaced by cold fury.

"I thought-"

He stopped himself, falling silent as she punched him square in the chest. The impact itself was not remotely painful, and in fact barely registered... but the implications behind the harsh gesture were a different story entirely.

"...Isabel."

She cut him off with an enraged shout, throwing both fists at him with all her might. He let her hit him a couple more times before catching her wrists in his hands, effortlessly holding them in place. His grip was gentle, but firm enough so that she could not free herself.

"Isabel," he tried again, tiredly.

"Let me go!" She yelled, jerking away unsuccessfully. "How can you- 'easier'?! You abandoned me! You left me with them! You said you would take me somewhere safe!"

"I told you not to trust me," he countered sullenly, a sad frown plastered on his features.

"This is all your fault! I hate you! I hate you! Why did you even come back?! You-"

"I missed you."

She paused mid-rant, knocked into stunned silence by the unexpected statement.

Alejandro watched her unwaveringly, the haunted look in his eyes deepening as he relaxed somewhat.

"...More than you know. I thought about you everyday, and searched everywhere. It took me a long time on my own, but I finally found the place where they had put you."

He sighed again, gingerly unclasping his hands from her arms to rest them on her shoulders instead.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "...For everything. You are right to hate me."

Their eyes met for brief moment. That one shared look seemed to compensate for all the unspoken words between them, for something shifted in Isabel's expression, and her resolve crumbled.

Eyes falling shut, she hiccuped pitifully and lurched forward, crashing into Alejandro's chest.

"I thought you were dead!" She wailed, clinging to the back of his suit so tightly her knuckles went white. "I saw you die! I saw you... I heard..."

Her speech dissolved into broken and confused fragments of sentences after that, rendered practically incoherent to the ear but still clear in their heartfelt expression. There was something very candid and truthful about this expressed level of emotion, and Alejandro found in himself a distinct desire to do the same, which he did not fight.

Surrendering himself to the same oblivion, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes as well, returning the embrace.

The last person he had ever held like this was...

...his daughter.

His heart twisted painfully in his chest at the memory, and he broke away.

"...You shouldn't have had to see that," he lamented quietly, his voice low and regretful as he adressed Isabel.

"But how are you still alive?..." She asked, uncomprehending, as she lifted a hand to lightly touch the side of his head. "They shot you."

He tapped a finger to his right cheek, where the bullet scar was most apparent. "I was lucky," he answered with a rueful smile.

She grimaced. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

Isabel looked at him for a long moment, eyes going over every detail of his face before stopping at his eyes again. Dimly, Alejandro wondered what she saw in them. In him.

She sniffed, finally dropping her head. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"That wouldn't have been a bad thing."

She fixed him with a defiant glare, gesturing at the empty space beside them. "If you hadn't been there tonight-"

"If I hadn't been there at all, you would still be living peacefully in your home with your family," he snapped, more harshly than he intended to.

She blinked, letting her hand fall back down.

"My family..." She echoed numbly, eyes going blank. "You mean my father? The man who hasn't made any attempt to get me back, even after the witness program tried to find a way to contact him? The man who has turned you into what you are today?"

Alejandro wished he had kept his mouth shut. He did not like where this conversation was going at all.

"I've never had anyone to turn to," Isabel said, voice rising in desperation. "I've always been on my own, having to defend myself with no one to help me! No one has ever cared about me! But you-"

"Don't," Alejandro growled in a menacing tone.

She stopped and looked away dejectedly, distant and resigned. "...It's true, though," she finally murmured, ignoring his warning. "You're more a father to me than he ever was, or ever will be."

She said it without hesitation, as though knowing she had nothing to fear from him.

Part of Alejandro refused to believe it, but the more rational side of himself had known this was coming. This was why he had dreaded the gradually expanding warmth between them, and stayed away from her even months after knowing where she had been relocated. The horror he felt at her confidence was only made greater by the fact that, in spite of losing everything he held dear and becoming a trained assassin, a protective and loving instinct still existed within him; buried far and deep beneath layers of cold and calculated hatred, but still there nonetheless.

"...If you knew half of what I've done, you would want me dead," he said, hoping to make her understand.

"You saved me," she retorted, fighting back tears as they filled her eyes again. "You fought to keep me alive, and came back when I needed you. You're not an evil person... I know it's true, because you saved me."

Wiping a hand down her cheeks, she shook her head and did a taut little movement resembling a shrug.

"I don't hate you, you know. I never did. Maybe... you just don't see yourself the way I do."

Alejandro watched closely as she collected herself and looked down at her lap, apparently done with what she had to say. She was right about one thing in particular, he realized.

She had no one... except him.

Whether she liked him because she had a good reason to or simply because she was lonely was not important. They both wanted something they could never have, and in a strange way, this shared longing did bring them closer, offering a sense of comfort they also both needed. Could something good really come out of this wreckage?... Could this mutual affection, which had been like a candle in a storm, somehow help bring out the best in both of them and grow, even when surrounded by such hostility and corruption?

There were many things Alejandro would have to live with without being able to change them... But he intended to do right by her, or at least try; if only to repay what he owed.

This, he could do.

With his mind made up, he breathed in deeply and stood up, offering her his hand. She took it, unwilling to let go.

"Are you leaving again?" She asked, searching his expression as she clutched his arm with tense helplessness.

Are you leaving for work again, daddy?

I will be back tonight, mi princesa. I promise.

Swallowing thickly, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear, looking back at her with profound devotion.

"No. I will stay for as long as you want."

She put a hand to her mouth and breathed heavily, overcome with relief and gratefulness. "Thank you."

And she smiled, then, for the very first time since he knew her.

Putting a hand on her back, he led her out of the alley, adjusting the gun he was carrying more securely on his belt.

.

Author's note: I was introduced to these movies by a friend of mine this week, and they literally blew my mind. Benicio Del Toro's character, especially, is so masterfully crafted and played that he was all I could look at on the screen. It was when I walked out of the theater in a daze after watching Sicario: Day of the Soldado that I decided I had to write something about him.

...I tried to keep him as much in character as possible, but found that this was very difficult to do given that I usually only write mush (and even in this story, I bet it somehow showed anyway, lol).

If this oneshot feels a bit rushed, I apologize. This is what happens when I work on a ton of stuff at once! I have been making slights edits to it since first posting it though- being unsatisfied with how it turned out and all. So if you reread it and anything seems different, here's why. xP

Hope this is any good. =.= I might write more, because I really, really love these characters, but it will largely depend on how this fic is received. I consider it as a 'test' of sorts.

On that note, thanks a lot for reading, anyway! Reviews are greatly appreciated.^^

*I do not own the Sicario movies, nor any of the characters.*