Defender of Men!
Since Alexander was four years old and his odd Grandma told him that was what his name meant, it was all he wanted to be. No matter the pressure it left on him, he wanted it. Not that he could and had defended anyone, even himself. Not even once, not for any reason. As it would turn out, Alexander hated violence, confrontation...even yelling left him trembling.
Maybe that was his father's fault, who never stopped laying hands on him. Or his absent mother's fault, for allowing his father's cruelty. It was likely Melody's fault as well, his Father's new wife that encouraged the hitting and screaming and threats. Regardless, it left him with far more scars than on his body.
Heck, even at almost fifteen Alexander could not stand the sound of keys or the sensation of hunger without panicking.
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Hmm, well, it would also not be totally true to say he never stood up for himself. He did all rename himself Xander, a way to sever ties to his kin. And, most importantly, after a brutal beating he turned his father into the authorities and got himself put into the Foster Care System. His greatest and most powerful act, one that almost cost him his life.
He would never regret it... not even if he gained a hundred plus pounds in just under a year, and was now covered in stretch marks and had irritatingly religious and cloying foster parents.
No, it was not perfect, but it was better and that is what mattered most.
Which brings everything to today, the final day in which he found out if his father was to be punished for nearly killing him a year ago. No one else wanted custody, and if all went through, his father would lose custody giving Xander the chance to be adopted or emancipated.
The only good option.
And so, dressed in his only nice blue button up, Xander waited for the judge's ruling. Hope and terror gripped his chest, knowing that statistics were not on his side...
But hoping someone would be, for once.