DISCLAIMER and AUTHOR'S NOTE: No they're not mine, not even the one that appears in this (extremely short) story. I always get a kick out of the people who say that if the seven were theirs they'd be nicer to them (no offence to all of you), but personally, even if they were mine, I'd probably be just as nasty to them, but then, I might be something of a literary sadist. Not to cause false hope (because I know that all of you out there are just like me and enjoy the boys' pain just as much as I do, don't even try to deny it), this isn't actually a story with any kind of angst, all of those are still locked up inside my head (I'm working on it okay?). And yes, I'm sure there are countless inaccuracies in this, but everyone'll just have to deal. Feedback (positive or constructive) is appreciated (if I don't get any, or at least some somewhat positive, all those nice angst-y stories may very well just stay locked up in my mind, or computer hard drive if I get that far). Consider yourselves warned (on all counts).
He looked at the graffiti on the building and sighed. It wasn't like it was anything new, hell, there had been a drive-by shooting last night and it hadn't even made the news. It was disheartening, but hardly unexpected. This was Purgatorio.
Vin Tanner had only recently moved back into this area, it had changed some, but nothing he had seen had really surprised him. Denver had it's dumping ground, where the dregs of society resided, just like every other city in the world had one, no matter what they called it.
He sighed and amended his statement, people who were down on their luck came here too, and not all of them were bad, just most people outside of Purgatory thought that they were because there were a few that earned Purgatory a bad name.
Maybe more than a few, he thought as he trudged past the broken elevator, thinking on the shooting of the previous night.
They weren't all bad, they didn't even all turn out that way, he reminded himself, he was living proof of that. It was just too easy to go bad here.
Vin could remember growing up here (and places just like it), it was damned near impossible not to become what everyone expected you to. If it hadn't been for... He turned his mind away from that train of thought; he did not want to go there.
Vin had gotten out, gone into the Army with hopes that he could do some good. He had been an Army Ranger, a sniper, a sharpshooter. There were only two real options for people like that when they got out of the services: police work or crime, it was a paradox of sorts, but Vin didn't feel like dwelling on it.
Vin wasn't going to go into crime, it just wasn't in him, but he also couldn't go into police work. As much as he wanted to, he didn't have the schooling for it, and he couldn't get it, not because he couldn't afford it, the GI bill would cover it if he couldn't, but Vin was no good at book learning. It killed him, but there was very little he could do about it.
He'd drifted around for a while, taking odd jobs to pay the bills before moving on, never staying in one place too long. He'd stumbled on the bounty hunting job almost by accident, but it was the one job that he'd stuck to for more than two months. It paid the bills, but more than that, it made him feel like he was giving back just a little bit, that he was protecting people in what little way he could.
He just wished that he could do more for these kids who didn't know that they didn't have to become what society expected they would. He wanted to give them hope, show them that someone cared.
Vin stopped just inside the door to his sparsely furnished apartment and cocked his head in thought. He could do that, he decided slowly, it didn't take a college degree to help someone realize that they were worth something.
A plan began to form in his mind. One side of his mouth curled upward into a lopsided smile. It might mean that he would have to plant at least temporary roots, it had been a long time since he last had "roots", but... He could do that.
The End
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